Finding a New Niche
by MagicSwede1965
Summary: Michiko's return to the island is less than smooth, so her friends try to rally round, with mixed results. Follows 'Milestones'
1. Chapter 1

_I'm finally back with a new story, after a year of writer's block and another half-year of enormous (and less than positive) events in my life. At least I was motivated to finish it! I'd appreciate feedback, as always. You may wish to reread my last story to refresh your memory, as this continues the storyline._

* * *

§ § § - June 28. 2008

It was amusing to see Maureen, Myeko and their daughters craning their necks to peer out every window within reach as the royal jet descended towards the Santi Arcuros airport in the gathering dusk. Christian was asleep in the seat beside Leslie; Susanna, Karina and Tobias were as eager and curious as the other children, faces pressed flat against the window to watch the ground coming up to meet them. Most of her husband's relatives were either dozing or just awakening; when the plane hit the tarmac, Christian woke up as well, blinking and shaking his head hard to gain some alertness.

"Daddy, we're here," cried the triplets, seeing he was awake.

"So we are," he agreed and yawned. "Thankfully. These flights are exhausting."

"Lucky for you there's enough room on this thing to sleep comfortably," Leslie noted with a grin. "You'd think these three had never flown before, the way they've been gaping out the window."

"This is probably the first time they've been old enough to appreciate it," Christian said, chuckling at the sight of his children watching the landscape racing past them. Even as he spoke, the plane made a turn and the airport terminal slid into view. It wasn't till they came to a halt at a gate that the rubberneckers finally abandoned their windows, the kids with obvious reluctance, and began to gather their things preparatory to disembarkation.

"Is that the palace over there?" Myeko asked from across the aisle. "I mean, look at the size of the place!"

"It even sparkles in the light," Noelle added, enchanted. "It's exactly like something out of a Disney movie."

"There are rumors that some of the stone the palace is built from was mixed with thousands of crushed rainbow gems," Christian said, "which is why it glitters like that. In the moonlight the effect is even more striking."

"Do you think we'll get to go sightseeing, or be stuck in the palace the whole time we're here?" Brianna wanted to know, edging up to stand beside her mother, who was holding April's hand to keep her from tearing off in the triplets' wake.

Maureen and Leslie looked at her and then at each other. "I guess it depends on how King Errico is doing," Leslie said.

"I'm sure he'd insist we tour his country," Christian told them. "The wedding isn't for another four days, so I have no doubt there'll be time enough for sightseeing."

It took four royal limousines to carry the entire party to the palace, which was clearly visible at the top of its long, high, narrow ridge nearly the entire way through the Arcolosian capital. The only route there was a smoothly paved road just wide enough for two cars to pass each other, winding through thick stands of trees on the hillside and including no fewer than five hairpin turns on its way to the crest of the ridge. The road itself was marked at its base with signs that warned against trespassing, a small brick hut large enough to house two guards, and a heavy iron gate that sealed off access to unauthorized visitors. The limos were flying the Arcolosian flag over the royal banner, so that they gained instant access to the palace drive and didn't even have to stop.

In the wide paved court that fronted the palace, the limos lined up one after the next and discharged their weary passengers, who were met by a small army of palace servants who took their luggage and led the newcomers off to their guest quarters. "Don't lose sight of your leader," Christian warned Myeko and Maureen with some humor. "If you think this place looks enormous from the outside, wait till you see the interior - you'll wonder how they ever crammed so many rooms into this structure. Worse than that, it's a convoluted rat's maze. You can't get around in here even with a detailed map."

They looked at each other. "I wonder if we're ever going to see Michiko at all while we're here," Myeko said deadpan, and they broke into laughter.

Once she and Christian were in their beautifully appointed suite, with one room for the adults and three single beds for the triplets in an adjoining room with a connecting door, Leslie followed the instructions she'd been given in an e-mail and put through a call to the suite Michiko shared with Errico. "You made it, thank goodness," Michiko exclaimed when Leslie identified herself. "Are all of you here?"

"And getting settled in," Leslie confirmed. "How's Errico doing?"

"He's mostly bedridden now," Michiko said, "but he's absolutely determined to be in the castle chapel to see with his own eyes that Paolono and Lindalia are safely married. No one can tell him otherwise, so we're just humoring his every wish."

"Does he have a lot of pain?" Leslie asked.

"He gets constant headaches, and lately not even the strongest medicines make much of a dent in them. He says they're like double migraines - so horrible that he can't even walk on his own because of the extreme vertigo they produce. I still can't understand how on earth he lives with that. All I can think is, he's desperate to be sure he sees his heir wed."

"That has to be it," Leslie said. "I sure hope he makes it."

"Don't we all," murmured Michiko. She cleared her throat and her voice sounded brighter when she spoke again. "You're all just in time for the evening meal, so I hope you're hungry. I held it back because I wanted the chance to see everyone this evening."

"You can count on the kids being hungry," Leslie said with a chuckle, accepting the change of subject. "I could use something myself - they told us when we boarded in New York that they'd be serving only a light meal early in the flight because you had asked that we join you for supper."

"Oh, good. Then I'll see you there," Michiko promised.

Within the hour the tired and hungry travelers had been brought to the castle's huge dining room, whose retractable wall had been opened to the early-summer evening and let in a refreshing breeze. The children and Myeko and Maureen were overwhelmed by the opulent setting, amazed at the kind of technology that could make such a wall a reality, even if only for the impossibly wealthy. But when the food arrived, the children's attention was promptly focused on that, and as they were being seated, Michiko arrived with Marcolo and Catalina. Maureen, Leslie and Myeko jumped out of their chairs and converged on their friend with hugs.

"I'm so glad you're all here!" Michiko exclaimed, eyes bright. "I just wish the other girls could have come too. What was Camille's excuse?"

"Fear of Jimmy and the boys pulling the house down around them and losing Robin in the process," Myeko said, and they all laughed. "Katsumi and Lauren and Tabitha had their work, of course. But they all promised they'd gather over at the Ordoñezes' place on Monday so they can watch the wedding on TV."

"That's fine with me, then," Michiko said. "Well, come on, let's eat-you must all be starving by now. If the three of you aren't too wrung out from all that traveling, I'd really like you to join me out by the pool after supper so we can talk."

When the meal ended and everyone had had their fill, servants arrived to show the diners back to their rooms; April and the triplets protested loudly enough that Cat finally asked Michiko if she could take them with her to her playroom so they could have fun for a while before bedtime. After some conferring, it was agreed, so that Cat and the servant who had charge of her were followed by quite an entourage: April Harding; Susanna, Karina and Tobias Enstad; Matti and Toria Enstad; Lisi Tenner-Strömberg; and Erika and Natalia Oskarsson (the latter of whom had recently been formally adopted by Kai). Annika Oskarsson had forged a friendship with Brianna Harding and Noelle Tokita, being only a year younger than they; and these three now asked if they could put on swimsuits and enjoy the large, sparkling pool while Michiko and her friends had their chat.

Maureen and Myeko agreed; Kai looked a little dubious, but Anna-Kristina assured him it would be fine for Annika to go. So pretty soon the three girls were cooling off in the pool, laughing frequently, while Michiko, Maureen, Myeko and Leslie gathered in chairs around a table, each with a glass of Arcolos' famous Vallomoros wine. "So what's happening with you three lately?" Michiko wanted to know.

Myeko, Maureen and Leslie brought her up to date individually on their respective family lives, and collectively as regarded events on Fantasy Island; Michiko listened avidly, laughed almost as much as the teenagers in the pool, and commented on nearly everything, to the point that her friends began to look oddly at one another and then at her.

Finally Myeko, with the instincts she had honed over her years as a newspaper gossip columnist, voiced her friends' thoughts. "You've been hanging on our every word, you know. Something up? I mean…" She tossed Leslie a glance, as if for help. "I know you miss Fantasy Island and all, and you're probably looking for a distraction right now, but -"

Michiko drew in a breath. "Well, yes on both counts." She glanced between her three friends, looking hesitant for a moment, then shot one look around the pool perimeter as if afraid of eavesdroppers. She lowered her voice so that the others had to lean in close to hear her properly. "I don't want this getting around, so don't tell anyone you don't trust, and especially don't tell anyone outside of this palace. But when Errico's…gone, I'll be moving back to Fantasy Island."

Her friends lit up and exclaimed aloud, and she shushed them with frantic hand motions. "Don't let it get out yet!" she insisted.

"Think there'd be an uproar?" Maureen asked with a grin.

"You don't know the half of it," Michiko said. "Once Errico passes, Paolono will become king. Technically he'll be king immediately upon his father's death, but you know monarchies - pomp and circumstance rule the day. There'll have to be a formal investiture with all the ceremonies and costumes and rare and costly accoutrements. But that won't be for several months, following a massive state funeral for Errico, and of course I'll have to be present for Paolono's coronation. But I'd prefer to leave the running of the country up to him. I'm only forty-three, and I think that's a little young to go around wearing the mantle of 'dowager queen'."

Her friends laughed. "Yeah, I think I'd have a problem with that too," Maureen agreed. "When will you be able to leave?"

Michiko stared into her wine glass, drawing little circles on the tabletop with its base. "The funeral planning is already under way, and that's under Errico's orders. He's well aware he doesn't have much longer to live, and he's fighting to take care of whatever unfinished business he possibly can while he still has the faculties, or any vestige thereof." Her look was wry. "But he's insisted that all the funeral details be arranged and set in place now while he's still around to direct the production, and he told me to be certain the funeral itself takes place no more than a week after he's gone." Tears gleamed in her eyes as she spoke, but her voice was remarkably clear and steady. "I've already started packing things, and if all of you can stay for the funeral, I'd like us all to go back home together."

Her friends nodded, glancing at one another. Then Myeko inquired, "Does Errico know what you're planning to do?"

Michiko went back to playing with her wine glass. "I started thinking about this as soon as we got his official diagnosis. At the time it was _if_ he died…then the treatments began to fail one by one, and within about six months we knew it was a question of _when_ he died. So I gave it some time to sink in for both of us, and then I told him what I was thinking of doing. I was surprised when he told me he knew I had a certain amount of homesickness - let's face it, one good tipoff was the fact that I was so upset shortly before his coronation because I thought I'd never be able to leave Arcolos again, not to mention my annual trips back. And he certainly didn't fail to notice that I've stayed away a little longer every year. So he wasn't entirely blindsided by what I had to say."

"What's he think of your taking Cat with you?" Leslie asked.

"We had a huge argument about it at first. He wanted her to remain here under the care of Paolono and Lindalia, and learn to be a proper little Arcolosian princess. But it won't be long now before they become king and queen, and Paolono especially will have plenty on his plate just trying to take over the running of the country. He's told me out of Errico's earshot that there are some fundamental changes he wants to make to bring Arcolos into the twenty-first century where it belongs, and that includes the primogeniture question. Right now Arcolos, England and Japan are the only monarchies in the world that insist the heir to the throne must be male. Paolono wants to alter that so that the firstborn will ascend to the throne, male or female. He wants to see that Arcolosian women and girls get the same opportunities as the men and boys do. And there are other things he wants to do too - modernization where it's needed, better trade agreements with the nearest neighbors, you know what I mean. He's got so much to do to accomplish his goals." Her friends nodded. "And besides, eventually Lindalia will bear her own children. I don't want to leave Cat here on Errico's say-so and have her think her mother abandoned her here. She's my daughter, my only child, and I want her with me."

"Of course you do," said Maureen. "It's only right. Has he come around yet?"

"I think he has…reluctantly, but he finally said maybe I had a point, and all right, go ahead and take Cat home with me when the time came. But he wants me to send her back here for summer vacations, so she can be taught what she needs to know about her own country. I suppose that's reasonable. Paolono and Lindalia probably won't mind having her here for eight or ten weeks, and after all, this is Cat's native country and she has a right, and probably an obligation because of her station in life, to know all she can learn about it. I'll miss her terribly, but I understand his position. Listen, it's going to be a horrendously busy weekend and I'm afraid I'll be in the innermost circle of crazed activity, so don't wait around for me the next three days. Do some sightseeing - get out and see the country, go shopping, visit some attractions, even do some rainbow-gem mining over in Li Ciento. Just because I'm right in the thick of the wedding preparations doesn't mean you have to confine yourselves to the palace."

"What'll we do without a tour guide?" Myeko asked with a grin.

Michiko broke into laughter. "Well, the best I could do is suggest that you ask Christian to do it - he's been here before, according to Errico, several times."

Leslie laughed too. "I'm not sure he's that familiar with the country, but on the other hand, he told me once that they put a car at his disposal on a visit he made a year after his mother died, and he just jumped in and went, and did whatever he wanted. He said he loved it because he got to find out what it was like to be anonymous for a while. Maybe he'll still remember some of the places he went and how to get there."

They watched the three girls frolicking in the pool; then Maureen cleared her throat. "Is Paolono aware of your plans to pack up Cat and all your things and move away?"

Michiko chuckled. "I saw no point in keeping it secret from the family. After all, my disappearance from the scene will directly affect Paolono's and Marcolo's lives - not so much Adriana, since she has her life in Lilla Jordsö with Roald and their son. But I insisted they keep it to themselves. I don't want it in every two-bit rag in Europe about my alleged abandonment of my stepson just when he's taken on such a huge responsibility and might need a few books' worth of sage advice. Not from his ignorant stepmother, he doesn't. Just because I married a king doesn't mean I'm an expert on how to run his country. Paolono's been trained for this all his life. He has a good head on his shoulders, and he's no slouch."

"So he's okay with it?" Myeko asked.

"Sure, he doesn't mind. Says he'll miss his little sister, but secretly I don't think he's going to devote that much thought to her absence. So it'll be just Cat and me - and before you ask, yes, she knows. I told her as soon as I talked Errico around to the idea. She'll be directly affected, so she deserved to know all about it."

"And she probably wants every single possession she has to go along," Maureen observed with a grin. "Or did you nix that yet?"

Michiko smirked. "I'm going to get in there before we go and clean out at least half the toys she has in there. She'll never miss them."

"With our luck, the triplets will ask for the better part of them," Leslie grumbled, although she was amused in spite of herself. "So when you get back, where are you and Cat going to settle?"

"At first with Mother," said Michiko. Miyoshi had finally sold the Tokita home a few weeks after Christmas, and was now living in a small apartment near town. "It'll be crowded for a while, I know. But my plan is…" She hesitated, looked between Leslie and Maureen for a few seconds, then went on, "What I want to do is build a house next door to you, Leslie. Do you and Maureen mind if I crash the neighborhood?"

Leslie and Maureen both broke into laughter and hugged her from each side while Myeko grinned. "It'll never be the same," Leslie teased her, "but why not? I think it'll be fun. I'm glad you're not moping around. It might seem callous to make plans for your future at a time like this, but I'm sure Errico probably insisted you do it once he got used to the idea."

"You know him better than you think you do," Michiko said. "He didn't like the idea of my moping around, as you said-he gave me an overly stern look and said he wasn't up to mopping up my oceans of tears before he'd even left this existence. He knows all of it, and he wants to have a final press conference right after the wedding - Tuesday actually, just in case of…well, you know." She straightened her spine as if shoring herself up. "He wants to tell the people about my decision and make it clear to them that he wholeheartedly approves of my plans and that Cat will be back every summer. But till then, please don't say anything to anyone. Otherwise it could be misconstrued, and I don't want that."

"Understandable," Maureen agreed. "Okay, we'll zip our lips. But one last thing, before we drag the girls out of the pool and make everyone hit the hay for the night. Even if Christian does agree to be tour guide for us, could you designate someone to leave us some guidebooks on the place? I'd rather use my time wisely and not get lost, so I have plenty of it to do some shopping with the money I saved on the airfare getting here."

They all laughed, and Michiko promised to see to it that they had guidebooks at their disposal before Maureen and Myeko rousted their daughters and Annika out of the pool and the entire group retreated into the castle. Leslie was relieved the evening had ended on a high note after all, though she half dreaded the days ahead.

§ § § - June 30, 2008

The wedding of Arcolos' crown prince and his pretty fiancée was celebrated with all the hyped-up publicity, glitter and bloated excess the world expected from royalty. To their collective relief, Errico - stubborn as he was - had indeed made a public appearance at the wedding, smiling and waving from his wheelchair and looking almost as if he had begun to make a miraculous recovery. What the public, and even the media, weren't aware of was how much of an effort Errico often had to make to hide the pain his tumor caused him, and how, once the cameras and the people had turned their attention to the honeymooning couple, he collapsed in the limousine back to the palace and went to bed uncommonly early, telling Michiko to make sure he had a press conference scheduled for the following morning as he had planned.

When he told her this, he had witnesses: Marcolo; Adriana with Roald, who had naturally come in for the wedding; and Christian and Leslie, since Errico still regarded Christian as the closest thing to a friend he had ever had. "I want you to be sure she does this," Errico said, eyes darting from one to another, even as he lay there massaging his scalp in a vain effort to dispel some of his pain. "I myself must explain this, as the king, while I can. I won't have my people insisting my wife ran away the second I was dead."

Christian glanced around at the pale faces of Errico's wife and children, and seemed to realize they weren't quite feeling up to it. "Errico, perhaps this is the time for me to offer some help," he suggested. "I used to deal with our royal secretary on any number of occasions before I left Lilla Jordsö, so it wouldn't be difficult for me to see to it that the publicity staff arranges for the event."

Errico stared at him in amazement, then grinned weakly. "You're too generous, my old friend," he said, sounding relieved. "My deepest and sincerest thanks. You must see to it immediately, I am afraid. Now that I have achieved my objective and seen with my own eyes that my son and heir is safely wed, I fear that my body may give up on me and deny me this last task before I have the chance to carry it out."

Christian smiled. "Consider it done."

"I am much enlightened of that burden," Errico murmured, in his flowery, formal speech that seemed such a glaring anachronism in this day and age. "Now perhaps I can sleep, if the medication manages to overpower this monster in my head. Again, Christian, my thanks - you and Leslie may leave if you wish. It has been a beastly long day. The rest of you, I want you here till I sleep."

For all its gentle phrasing, it was a dismissal, and Christian and Leslie departed the bedchamber, where they met a servant waiting at the door. "Take us to the office of the palace publicity staff," Christian said crisply. The servant bowed and struck off along the corridor at a pace that forced Christian and Leslie to walk rapidly to keep up.

"I guess we're gonna get our share of exercise this week," Leslie remarked, huffing a little as she tried to match Christian's longer strides.

He glanced back at her, saw the effort she was making and grinned, taking her hand. "You could certainly say that. Hang in there, my Rose, at least we have a guide so we don't end up wandering the corridors for the next three years looking for the way out."

In a surprisingly short time they were presented to the publicity staff, and Christian explained what Errico wanted, taking charge with an easy, confident familiarity that made Leslie envious. She looked on in silence, till one of the staff ventured to ask Christian, "Your Highness, does Queen Michiko wish to be with the king while he speaks?"

Christian looked at Leslie, who blinked in surprise and then shrugged. "I don't know, actually. Could one of you contact her? She's with the king."

The nearest staff member punched out the required numbers and gave her the phone; she put the question to Michiko and was met with a startled silence. "I didn't think about it," Michiko admitted. "Let me check with Errico."

Leslie listened while voices murmured in the background; then Michiko came back on. "He says yes, I should be there, so I can further explain the plans I have. He just wants to be sure the people know that he approves of what I'm going to do."

"Got it," said Leslie. "Thanks, Michiko." She relayed this to the staff, who made some notes; a few were already making phone calls. Leslie handed back the borrowed phone and looked on as the arrangements were made; Christian provided a couple of bits of advice here and there, but it wasn't long before confirmations came in from various media outlets, not just in Arcolos but a number of other European countries as well, the UK being a key one. They also heard back from a CNN reporter stationed in London, so that there would be coverage for North America, and Australian and New Zealand news outlets were contacted too. Christian and Leslie waited till they had a full schedule of confirmations; then a staff member got in touch with Michiko to explain that the conference was scheduled for ten o'clock sharp the next morning.

The servant who had brought them to the office now led them back to their room, and they fell gratefully into bed, worn out from the long day. In fact, as Leslie admitted, it had been a long four days. "We've been on the go for one reason or another ever since we got here," she sighed. "We'll have to take another week off just to recover when we get back."

"I was thinking that myself," Christian said through a chuckle. "The Arcolosians never do things halfheartedly. We might as well get all the sleep we can."

They tried, but they were both still groggy when serving staff awakened them the next morning. The triplets, of course, were wide awake and full of energy; their parents had all they could do to keep them from pelting off down some obscure corridor or another on the way to breakfast. Michiko laughed sympathetically when she saw them both yawn hugely as they took chairs. "I don't think there's anything scheduled after the press conference," she offered. "We can just relax here today. Errico has some state business he wants to clear up, and he's sending Marcolo out to take care of some things that have to be dealt with in person, since Paolono and Lindalia are on their honeymoon."

Maureen nodded. "I've done all the shopping I want to do. I brought a swimsuit, so I'm planning to take advantage of the heat and the sunshine."

At nine-thirty, the entire group retreated to a room that reminded Leslie of a school theater setup, except that instead of the gymnasium or cafeteria that normally housed school stages, there were instead many rows of chairs. Adjacent to this was the room where the royal family prepared to go on television to make whatever statements they were making; while only Errico and Michiko would actually be speaking, Adriana, Marcolo and Catalina would be in the background with a servant or two to help Errico. Everyone else would re-main in what Michiko referred to as "the king's ready room". When Myeko asked about it, she laughed and confirmed, "Yes, Errico cooked up that name after he became a big fan of _Star Trek: The Next Generation_ twenty years ago."

"Makes sense," said Leslie, grinning. "After all, this is where you get ready for the conferences." Everyone laughed quietly at that.

Michiko turned on the huge flat-screen television mounted on the wall that backed onto the stage; at the moment there was some talk show in Arcolosian playing. "This should end a little early so that they can be on the air when the time comes for Errico and me and the children to go on the stage for the conference," she said, handing Christian the remote. "You can have conversations in here at a normal level - it's soundproofed so nobody outside the room can hear anyone who might be in here, and try to break in for interviews or some other unauthorized interaction."

"Well thought out," said Christian, impressed. "We should have had that done in the castle. I'll have to discuss it with the family."

"I thought you'd like that," Michiko teased, and they laughed again. "Make yourselves comfortable, everyone."

Christian and Leslie watched her migrate over to the door that led to the conference room, where Errico sat in his wheelchair with his eyes closed. They looked at each other; then Christian sighed and aimed the remote at the enormous flat-screen. "There's nothing we can do now," he murmured, half to himself. "Only wait."


	2. Chapter 2

§ § § - June 30, 2008

Michiko thought Errico was fading even now as she stood behind him on the stage, trying to avoid the staring, shouting sea of faces with eyes all too hungry for a glimpse of the king in what were clearly his last hours. She watched him anxiously as he handled the reporters with all he could muster up of his usual take-charge attitude. He sweated hard with the effort, and she reached up and unobtrusively blotted his forehead with a monogrammed hanky from time to time. His voice sometimes faded in and out, but he'd always pause, pull in a breath and resume speaking. Because the conference was international in nature, he was using his rather florid English, and as she listened to him she realized she was going to dearly miss his archaic way with the language.

She was grateful that Errico was making it incontrovertibly clear that he endorsed her move back to Fantasy Island after his death. "I will not have it said," he announced in a warning tone, "that my wife seized the first opportunity she had upon my demise and ran away from a grieving country. I have known of her intentions for some time now and I feel this is the best thing she can do for herself. Upon moving, she will have close longtime friends who will be able to help her through her own grief-and never mistake me, my subjects and others, she will grieve. My queen is far too good a person; my people know this, and I know they will not resent her departure. I have reassured my people that my son is fully capable of running the country once I am gone. I hope merely that I may linger for at least several days to come so that he and my lovely new daughter-in-law might enjoy a proper honeymoon." That set off laughter; Michiko couldn't repress a grin of her own.

The next question was aimed at her, and she answered with only the faintest tremble in her voice, wondering briefly as she did what her friends and the _jordiska_ royals in the next room must be thinking as they watched this. It was a relief when Errico took charge again and answered a few more questions; then the conference came to an end and a servant took the wheelchair handles, pushing the king back to privacy. Michiko followed, trying not to look as if she were too eager to leave; but she caught Leslie's eye and knowing smile as she pushed the door shut behind her, and realized her friend knew her better than she'd ever thought. She grinned sheepishly back and Leslie laughed softly.

Errico was taken straight back to the royal suite, and Michiko managed to make eye contact with all her friends long enough to beckon at them to come with her. She led them to the nearest unused room and ushered them all in as if she were trying to hide them, then closed the door, looked around at them and abruptly exploded into sobs.

Her friends crowded around her instantly, all trying to hug her at once, though none of them said a word; they knew each other too well after so many years of friendship. She didn't need words right now, just comfort. They gave her a few minutes to let the initial outburst die down; then Maureen said, "Too much pressure, huh?"

Michiko managed a nod and a shaky, "The old pressure-cooker cliché, yes," before a couple of wayward sobs choked her off. Again her friends waited, patting her back or rubbing her shoulder, till once more she got a few threads of control.

"It-it's horrible," she said, forcing the words out of a constricted throat, squeezing more tears from her eyes. "It crossed my mind th-that I wanted to just go back to Fantasy Island right now, and then I th-thought h-how awful it is to wish…wish…"

"Michiko, you're not wishing Errico dead," Leslie said flatly. "I know it sounds like you are, but you're not. You're just trying to get out from under all the stress."

"I kind of think he'd understand," Myeko ventured. "I mean, he seems to read you like a book he's had all his life."

Michiko nodded faintly once or twice, turning that over. If Errico wasn't reading her mind, or at least her expression, he was certainly good at accurately guessing her mood; she couldn't count how many times he'd figured out what she was feeling and helped her through it, always with love and patience. "Yes, I guess he does."

"I think the best thing you can do right now is go and be with him. I think he'd want you there beside him," Leslie told her. "You'll both feel better if you do."

The advice made sense, and although Michiko was worn out and had a persistent, if very out-of-place, wish that she could have the whole ordeal behind her, she also knew that if she didn't follow it, she'd always regret it. "You're right." She opened the door and signaled at the nearest servant. "Just follow Arturro here and he'll get you back home safely."

The others laughed. "We'll return the favor when the time comes," Maureen promised her, squeezing her hand. "Just go be with him - and tell him we said thanks for everything. It's totally inadequate, but I wanted him to know anyway."

"I'll tell him," Michiko said, and watched the servant head down the corridor with the girls behind him before turning and taking a different route to the royal suite. Like it or not, the countdown had begun.

§ § § - July 2, 2008

Michiko and her two stepchildren, along with Cat, joined the rest of the crowd at breakfast the following morning to report that Errico had slept only fitfully the night before, and Michiko had gotten only a long series of catnaps herself as a result. "He's awake now, but he doesn't want any breakfast. He said there's no point." The last sentence came out so low that not everyone heard her.

Leslie did, though, and bit her lip before relaying this to Christian, who had been distracted by an altercation between Susanna and Tobias. Christian frowned. "Sounds as if he's deteriorated overnight."

The mood around the table was subdued and there was little conversation, except among the youngest children who didn't understand the gravity of the situation. Right after the meal ended, Michiko disappeared again, and when the triplets pleaded to play with Cat in her playroom, Christian and Leslie agreed and followed a servant to their suite, where they turned on the television and found that there was a widespread deathwatch going on. They managed to find a satellite feed from the BBC, which was broadcasting regular news as usual but provided hourly snippets on Errico's condition.

"This is getting ridiculous," Christian muttered after a couple of hours had passed and there was nothing new. "I hate repetitive news loops. Isn't there something else going on that might be worthy of their attention?"

"Not till at least twenty-four hours after it's happened, no," said Leslie with a wry grin that he mirrored. "It'd have to be something earthshaking to appear the moment it happens. I'm sure Errico's passing will fit that bill."

Shrugging, Christian grabbed the remote off the highly polished inlaid-wood coffee table in front of them and cycled through channels till he came across a local weather network. "Then I suppose we can find out if the weather will hold through the week."

They were commenting on a Europe-wide forecast when their phone rang; they traded one startled look before Leslie lurched to her feet and scuttled across the room to pick it up. "Hello?"

"Princess Leslie? Queen Michiko asks that you and Prince Christian come to the royal suite," said a heavily accented voice she didn't recognize. "A servant awaits you outside your door as I speak."

"We'll be there right away, thank you," Leslie promised and hung up, turning to Christian. "He says Michiko's asking for us."

He performed the Enstad eyebrow quirk and arose, silencing the TV and setting the remote back atop the table. "I confess to a certain dread about this."

She nodded, and they both fell silent as they stepped out their door and trailed an equally taciturn young man with a bushy mustache and closely cropped, curly black hair along the intricate maze that constituted the Arcolosian palace. Finally they reached the royal suite and the servant gestured them in, bowing deeply to Michiko, who stood a few feet back from the doorway clearly awaiting Christian and Leslie's arrival. She nodded back at him, and he pulled the heavy door closed, shutting himself out.

"Are you all right?" Leslie questioned. "How's Errico?"

They saw then that Michiko's face was very pale, and Christian took Leslie's hand in the remaining second before Michiko said, half whispering, "He's gone."

"Oh," Leslie gasped.

Michiko nodded, her eyes glazing over as if she had turned inward. "Five minutes ago, no more, I don't think. By royal protocol I'm supposed to deliver the official announcement, but I…I'm not…" Her voice thickened and distorted, and her face crumpled before she ducked her head and turned away from them. "I can't," she wailed low.

At a loss, Leslie automatically turned to her husband, but Christian was frowning with uncertainty. "Is that an unbreachable rule, then?" he asked.

"What?" Michiko mumbled thickly, brushing at her eyes without effect.

"That it must be you, and you only, who informs the world of the king's passing," he clarified. "I know _jordisk_ protocol, but not Arcolosian." He paused, reflected for a few seconds and took a breath. "Is this written into law somehow, or is it simply tradition?"

"What's the difference?" asked Leslie without irony. She had a sudden flashback to 1991 and Errico's heavyhanded pursuit of her, and how she and Roarke in their research had learned how storied tradition was in Arcolos - enough that many traditions had eventually been written into law, and that the older the tradition, the more unthinkable it was to breach it. "I think maybe the question here is, how old is the law-slash-tradition?"

"Ancient," Michiko said, voice quivering. "Errico told me about it this morning, when he was lucid enough to talk at all. It goes back to the very first king."

Christian winced and Leslie made a face. The prince released a deep sigh and shook his head. "Then we'd better find out the details behind this, so you can fulfill your duty. I'm sure you know full well that tradition may as well be law in this country."

Michiko got a panicky look about her. "I know I have to do it, but I can't go out there and make that announcement without breaking down."

Christian made a noise and frowned, thinking. Something occurred to Leslie then and she exclaimed, "What about Marcolo and Adriana? Even though you have to make the announcement, is there anything that says you have to do it alone? Find your stepchildren, Michiko, and go out there with them. It just makes sense that any of Errico's children who are available should be with you when you inform the press. You should get Cat too."

As Michiko nodded, Christian added, "Before you tell the world, you'd better inform the new king and his wife. They should be told before the press gets wind of it. Did Paolono and Lindalia take mobile phones with them? They should have - it's not as though they had no idea his father didn't have much longer to live."

"Y-yes…yes, you're right…I'm so…" Michiko audibly gulped down a sob and pulled in several deep breaths, one after another. "I mean…even when you know it's coming, it's…it's always a shock when it actually happens. And it only just happened…"

Leslie nodded, hugging her friend. "I know. You're too shocked to think straight. It's okay, don't worry. That's why we're here - we'll help you through."

Michiko brought them into the bedroom section of the suite, where Errico's still body lay in the bed; he looked as though he were asleep. Christian reached out and grasped the king's limp hand, squeezing and bowing his head for a moment to say a private farewell. While he was doing that, Michiko picked up the bedside phone and spoke in subdued Arcolosian for a moment. She hung up and turned to Leslie. "The kids are on their way here to the suite. The servant who brings them should have Paolono's cell-phone number, so I can call him and tell him."

After that, things seemed to happen in a blur. Cat and Adriana dissolved into tears at hearing their father was dead; Marcolo managed to rein in his emotions, but there was a new bleakness in his eyes, and he bowed over his father's hand for quite some time while Michiko spoke with Paolono and delivered the news. It meant the new young king and his bride would have to cut their honeymoon short, but Paolono - steeped all his life in preparation for the throne - knew full well what was expected of him and raised no fuss, telling Michiko he and Lindalia would be home by the end of that day.

With Marcolo, Adriana and Cat flanking her, Michiko at last granted an audience to the press and released the news that King Errico V of Arcolos was dead of an inoperable brain tumor, and that Paolono was on his way home from his honeymoon. One of the servants who staffed the palace's communications office had gone out with her while she delivered the announcement, and deflected a number of shouted questions before herding the widowed queen and the prince and princesses back into the so-called ready room. There, shut away from public eyes, Michiko finally cracked under the pressure of her grief and collapsed into a chair, sobbing. It set off the two sisters again, and as Leslie sat beside her friend to offer quiet solace, Marcolo turned away and gave in to silent weeping of his own. That left Christian to deal with the servant, suggesting that he arrange transportation for Paolono and Lindalia upon their arrival and see to it that a suite was prepared. "You may as well set the funeral preparations in motion now," he added, glancing back at the grieving family. "I have it on good authority that His Majesty wished not to waste time in holding the funeral and making sure Prince Paolono is formally invested with the throne."

The servant nodded, but hesitated. "I realize that you are not a prince of our country and cannot be expected to know all nuances of our customs, but you should understand that Her Majesty cannot depart for her home before she has played her part in the funeral."

Christian nodded. "I understand. I'm sure Her Majesty is fully aware of the duties she has yet to carry out, but I think it best if she and her children are allowed their privacy to grieve, until at least this time tomorrow. But the arrangements should go ahead now. And if Her Majesty prefers alternate sleeping accommodations, by all means, indulge her. Once she's had a chance to let the worst of her grief run its course, she'll be able to take care of whatever role she must play."

"Understood, Your Highness. You certainly were not required to assist us at this tragic time, but I wish you to know on behalf of everyone here in the palace that your efforts and direction are most deeply appreciated." The servant bowed as Christian smiled his thanks, and departed the ready room at a half-run.

Leslie watched him questioningly, one arm around Michiko's shoulders while the grieving queen clutched her wailing young daughter, as he approached and pulled a chair around to face her more fully before sitting. "The crucial arrangements are being taken care of now," he said quietly. "I think everything will go exactly as Errico tried to plan for it, and in that case we should be able to go home by this time next week."

"Good," Leslie murmured. "I think that's just what Michiko needs."

§ § § - July 10, 2008

Paolono had taken up his father's baton with little fuss, as if he knew exactly what to do and how to go about it; his nervous young bride rose admirably to the occasion and gave him full support. They both urged Michiko to go on home; but in the end she went with her friends only, because Cat balked at leaving the only home she had ever known and pleaded with her mother to stay till the end of the summer. Michiko hadn't expected that development, but when Paolono and Lindalia promised to take good care of her and send her on to Fantasy Island when Michiko asked for her, the grieving queen gave assent.

So the royal jet, with Christian, Leslie, and their triplets; Maureen and her daughters; Myeko and her Noelle; and Michiko was winging its way around the planet, with three scheduled refueling stops along the way. For a change, they would land at Fantasy Island's tiny airport, located on the southwestern corner of the island, to avoid any unnecessary fuss; Roarke had assured them he would have rovers waiting there to take them all home.

Most of the travelers managed to sleep away a good portion of the flight; but Michiko had turned inward, obviously unable to sleep, staring blankly out a window and refusing to respond to anyone's overtures. The flight attendants let her be, but Leslie could see the increasing worry on their faces as the trip progressed and she simply sat and stared. One of them finally approached Leslie and asked nervously, "Shouldn't we insist that Her Majesty at least get up and walk around a bit?"

Leslie took in the sight of her friend slouched in her seat, unseeing eyes trained on the window, and considered it for a moment, thinking back of what she knew of Michiko across all the years they had been friends. After a moment she focused on the flight attendant. "I think she's using the time to come to grips with King Errico's death. She has a new life ahead of her and a lot of changes, and they'll occupy all her time when we get back and she starts carrying out her plans. So I think she's taking the chance she has now to think it through and adjust herself to the situation as it stands. I think she'll be all right in the end. She'll always miss the king, but she's strong enough to know that the best way to honor his memory is to go on with her own life."

The flight attendant nodded slowly a few times, and a small smile broke out on her face. "I understand. Thank you, Your Highness." She dipped a quick curtsy to Leslie before retreating, and Leslie tossed Michiko one last glance before resettling herself in her seat and hoping devoutly that her words would be borne out.

They landed on Fantasy Island in the waning hours of the day; the triplets and April Harding were all cranky from so much traveling, and Brianna and Noelle were both yawning and complaining about the long flights. The rover carrying Myeko, Maureen and their girls left first, once the women had had a chance to hug Michiko and let her know that they were only a phone call away at any time; two other cars sat waiting, and Christian gave a few succinct instructions to their drivers as to disposition of the luggage before trying to round up the triplets, who had been chasing each other in frenzied circles from the moment they hit the ground at disembarkation.

Michiko by now had dark circles under her eyes, but she paused to give Leslie a wan little smile. "Did you tell the flight attendants to stop bothering me?"

Leslie had to grin at that. "Not exactly. They were worried about you, but I told them you were likely using the time to think." She hesitated a moment, her grin fading as she took in her friend's haggard look. "But they aren't the only worried ones. Are you sure you'll be all right? Your mother _is_ expecting you, right?"

"Yes, of course," Michiko said, nodding. "All of you, you're really sweet to be so concerned, but I think Mama-san has something I can take so I can get a proper night's sleep. With the way my brain is chasing its own tail, I'll need it. I haven't been able to shut off my mind since the funeral."

"Well, I think you should give yourself a few days to rest and resettle before you start running around the island hiring architects and construction companies to get your house built. All the stuff you wanted to bring back won't make it here till probably the end of the summer anyway, and I know your mother won't mind having you with her for as long as you need her. And it's like Myeko and Maureen said: all of us are just a phone call away, anytime you need someone to talk to. In my case, even if it's on a weekend, just drop by the main house and sooner or later, I'll be back around."

That small, wan smile - more of a stretching of the lips really - appeared again for a fleeting second or two before Michiko closed her eyes, let her head fall back and opened them again to take in the riotous color of the sunset sky. "The one redeeming thing in all of this is knowing I'm _home_ again. Really and truly home, for good. And having all the rest of you close by instead of on the other side of the world…" She focused on Leslie, and this time there was a new spark in her eyes. "It's going to do me so much good. Give me some time to get my equilibrium back, and you won't know what happened to me."

Leslie grinned for real this time. "Now that's reassuring to hear. You head on over to your mother's place, and we'll see you whenever you're ready, okay? I've already checked with Father about the land beside our house, and he said to let you know you can come into the main house when you're ready and sign some papers to make it official."

"Great. Well, I'll see you all soon," Michiko promised, and hugged Leslie before making her way to the waiting rover and settling into the middle seat. Leslie watched the car cross the tarmac and disappear down the Ring Road, while Christian came up behind her, having given up on the triplets for the moment.

"Where're the kids?" Leslie asked, half turning to him as he slid his arms around her from behind.

"They won't stop running, so I thought I might as well let them wear themselves out till they're tired enough to be amenable. That may take a while." He sighed, then chuckled as she turned in his embrace and took a moment to hug him. "Is Michiko all right?"

"She will be," Leslie said, squeezing him. "She told me she's glad to be back home again, and she had a look in her eyes that said she's going to make it through, once she's been back for a while. I don't think it'll be long before we have to get used to construction noise next door for a few months."

"We'll have to put the children on leashes to keep them from exploring the site," said Christian with an exaggerated groan, and she laughed. They wandered to the remaining rover, watching their children playing a raucous game of tag some distance away from the now-quiescent royal jet.

† † †

By the time the next weekend came around, everyone was back into normal routines; Leslie and Roarke had seen their guests off into their fantasies, and Katsumi, Tabitha and Camille were well aware of Michiko's return but had yet to see her. So it didn't come as a surprise to Leslie when Tabitha came into the study about an hour before lunch and paused in front of the desk, clasping her hands in front of her as if awaiting acknowledgment. Leslie grinned at her. "What's on your mind?"

"Michiko, naturally," Tabitha said, and Leslie chuckled while Roarke sat back as if to watch the byplay. "I'm sure you didn't expect anything else."

"Not really. So what's on your mind?"

Tabitha sat in one of the leather chairs at Roarke's gesture. "Well, I know it might take a while before she's ready to be very social, but…well, we're her friends. I was talking to Camille, and she said something about throwing a welcome-home party for Michiko."

"We told you you should've come to Arcolos with the rest of us," Leslie teased her, and Tabitha and Roarke both laughed quietly. "I like the idea, but even I haven't heard from Michiko since we landed at the airport the other day. Obviously Errico's death hit her hard, and then Catalina decided she wanted to spend the rest of the summer at the palace rather than coming home with her. I'm sure she's feeling pretty torn up right now, and not enough time has passed to help heal it much."

Tabitha nodded. "I understand that, but maybe it would help her a little to be around friends, and maybe talk about what she's been going through."

Roarke smiled at her and remarked, "Quite commendable. It might be preferable to have Leslie sound out Michiko on how she feels and whether she's ready to move past the worst of her grief. Give her a little more time; perhaps she will come forward on her own. It has been only two days since their return, after all."

Tabitha twisted her mouth in chagrin. "That's true. Well, maybe we -" Just then, the door opened and none other than Michiko appeared in the inner foyer; Tabitha jumped to her feet, and Leslie and Roarke both arose as well. "Michiko, it's so good to see you," Tabitha exclaimed, rushing up to hug the surprised queen. "We've all been hoping you're okay."

Michiko smiled and returned the hug. "It's really good to see you too, Tabitha. How are Fernando and the children?" They exchanged a little small talk as they meandered back into the study; then both sat down in tandem with Leslie and Roarke, and Michiko gave them a slightly sheepish smile. "Sorry to drop in unannounced. But I thought I'd give you some time to get the fantasies going, and then put my plans into motion. I'm already feeling the walls closing in on me."

"Goodness, it's that bad?" Tabitha asked, surprised.

Michiko laughed a little. "Oh, I love Mama-san very much, and I'm grateful she took me in without question and told me I can stay as long as necessary. But I hadn't realized her new apartment was so small. She has only one bedroom and I've been sleeping on the sofa. And so much of the familiar stuff from the house is gone. She's reverted to the spare decorating style of the Japanese; there's a family portrait on the wall from about 1980, but otherwise it's just very Spartan. I asked her where the other things were from the house and she told me most of them are in storage. So I said I can probably use some pieces when my own house is ready. And speaking of that…" She focused on Roarke. "Leslie says you have some papers ready for me to sign."

"Indeed I do," said Roarke, pulling open a drawer and removing several pages. "There was little trouble drawing them up and making arrangements to transfer a parcel to you. Most of the land on that particular lane reverted to my ownership after the death of Russell St. Anthony and Maureen's decision to keep only as much property as she and her husband wanted for their own home. You need only look them over and sign them."

Once she had done so, Tabitha tried again. "Michiko…" she began, half arising from her chair. "I, uh…some of us were thinking that we'd like to give you a welcome-home party. If you feel up to it, of course."

Michiko paused, with a faint look of confusion about her; then she cleared her throat, as if coming up from a reverie. "Well, that sounds nice," she said, though they could all see it took some effort for her to muster up even a little enthusiasm. "If you want to, feel free. Just let me know when and where, that's all. Mr. Roarke, thank you so much for your time and your help; I appreciate it more than you know."

"I was happy to do what I could," Roarke assured her. "Good luck with your plans." She smiled and thanked him, then left with a quick wave to her friends.

Tabitha sank back into her chair, a textbook demonstration of disappointment. "I was hoping the idea of a party might cheer her up."

"Well, she has a lot on her mind and a lot to do," Leslie pointed out. "I'm sure she's just preoccupied, and by the time you're ready to have the party, she'll probably see it as a welcome break from all the other things she has to handle."

Looking encouraged, Tabitha smiled again. "Of course, that must be it. Well, thanks for letting me bother you. I guess I'd better get back home." She hurried out.

Roarke regarded Leslie for a moment when the study was quiet again. "What do you think, Leslie?"

"As little as I can get away with right now," she retorted jokingly. Roarke flashed a smile of acknowledgment, but she could see he really wanted to know, and had to settle back and think about it for a moment. "What I think is that she's kind of at loose ends, especially since Cat decided she wanted to stay in Arcolos till summer's over. I have some thoughts on that too, by the way, but they'll keep. I just think that she feels the need to stay busy, to keep her mind occupied, so she doesn't lose it."

Roarke nodded slowly a few times, studying her. "What are you thinking in regard to Princess Catalina?"

Leslie compressed her lips and met Roarke's gaze from under her bangs. "You should have seen the fuss she put up when Michiko said it was time to leave. She cried like a fountain and begged to stay in the palace, almost at the top of her voice. I think under the circumstances, Michiko couldn't refuse her. But I'm…I'm a little worried that at the end of the season, Cat will try to find some reason for staying put, and that won't do much for Michiko emotionally. I know it's hard on Cat too, but she can't always have her own way."

She knew Roarke's brain was clicking along, and there was no doubt in her mind that he could extrapolate, if not outright predict, what lay in Michiko and Cat's near future. But he said only, "I think you may be right. But I feel the best thing to do is give them both time. She has only just arrived home; let's see what the next few weeks bring."


	3. Chapter 3

§ § § - July 26, 2008

Not till two weeks later, though, did Leslie personally hear anything from any of her friends in regard to Michiko, and that was because Tabitha appeared again, this time in the middle of Roarke and Leslie's lunch, looking agitated. "Have you heard from her?" were the first words out of Tabitha's mouth.

Leslie restrained a wry smile; she knew exactly whom Tabitha was talking about. "No, Tabitha," she said patiently, "nothing."

"It's been over two weeks," Tabitha announced, yanking out the chair Christian usually sat in, which was vacant at the moment as something had held him up at his computer-repair shop. "I know we have to give her time, but even under the circumstances, having her hide out like this without a single word to a soul is _just not normal_. It's not healthy." She fixed Leslie with a stare that made Leslie flinch back slightly. "It's time for her welcome-home party, and I'm going to round up the girls - anybody who wants to help me plan it - and get it going. She needs to come out and reconnect."

"A party?" exclaimed Susanna before Leslie could gather her wits enough to react. "Can all us kids come too? Please?"

Leslie peered at her daughter, then eyed Tabitha and drawled, "Well, Tabitha, since you seem to have elected yourself chief party planner, what's the verdict?"

Tabitha recovered nicely, executing an amiable shrug. "Fine with me, everybody's kids are welcome. I hope you're not too busy this weekend, because I think you should be in on this. Fair warning, Mr. Roarke." She barely glanced at an amused Roarke before shoving Christian's chair back and standing up. "Make sure you have your phone on you at all times. For now, I'm going to get Myeko and Maureen and Camille and Katsumi off their lazy behinds and tell them it's party time. I'll be in touch." With that, she half-ran off the porch, while Leslie watched her go, a little bemused.

"What kind of party will it be, Mommy?" Karina wanted to know.

"I have no idea, sweetie," Leslie admitted with a wry little grin at her four-year-old daughter. "I guess I'll find out soon enough." She cast Roarke a look that made him chuckle.

"Well, if she's gonna let us kids come," Susanna said cheerfully, "I hope there's lots of good food to eat."

"But no pears," Tobias spoke up then, making a face. "Pears have sand in 'em."

Leslie giggled and Roarke grinned at this statement. "I'll pass the word along," Leslie promised her son and gestured to his plate. "Right now, you need to eat what's in front of you, before you get in trouble."

"Where's Daddy?" Tobias wanted to know, taking a big bite out of an apple half.

"Still at work," said Leslie. "He'll be here when he can. What other food do you think they should have at the party?"

The triplets were contributing enthusiastic suggestions when Christian finally put in an appearance, taking the steps by twos and jogging across the porch. "My apologies for being so late," he said, taking his seat. "If it weren't for certain overly choosy customers, I'd retire and simply be chairman of the board of this company, and leave the website designing entirely up to Julianne. Have I missed anything crucial?"

"No," Leslie said with a knowing grin to herself. _"You_ certainly wouldn't think it was crucial, anyhow; let's put it that way."

"Mrs. Ordoñez is gonna have a party for Queen Michiko," Susanna informed her father excitedly. "And Mommy said we could help pick the stuff they have to eat."

"But not pears," Tobias insisted again, around a mouthful of apple. "Pears have sand in 'em, Daddy. So tell Mrs. Ordoñez no pears."

Christian froze long enough to stare at his son with wide-eyed disbelief, a smile plucking at the corners of his mouth. "Pears don't have sand in them."

"They do too," Tobias shot back in a strident voice. "It makes my teeth grumble." He turned to Roarke as though for validation. "Pears _do_ have sand in 'em, don't they?"

Roarke winked at his grandson. "Yes, they seem to, now that you mention it."

"See, tol'ja so," Tobias said, smirking. "Gran'father said, and he knows _everything."_

Leslie hid a snicker behind her hand and Christian grinned. "It's not sand, son, it's just part of the pear." To Leslie, he said, "So when does she intend to have this party?"

"I don't know yet, she's only just started planning it and warned me to be sure I have my phone on me at all times. I admit to having some hope we'll be busy this weekend."

Christian laughed and set about filling a plate. "Well, perhaps if you ask nicely, Mr. Roarke can accommodate you. What are the plans for the afternoon?"

As it happened, Leslie didn't get a call till after the triplets had been sent to bed for the night and Christian, who had had a long day at his office, was yawning and stretching as though preparing to follow them. She checked her phone ID and snorted. "Fine time to call," she muttered and answered with some reluctance. "Hi, Tabitha."

"Everybody thinks the party's a great idea," Tabitha said immediately, her voice a rush of excitement. "We'll have it here at our house so we can finally christen that new deck we gave ourselves last Christmas. Tell Christian husbands are invited too."

"Uh-huh," Leslie responded dryly, meeting Christian's heavy-lidded gaze. "When do you plan to have it?"

"Monday evening," said Tabitha. "And you'd both better be there. Bring the kids if you like, but if you have to drag your husband by the hair, make sure he comes too."

"Monday evening?" Leslie echoed in surprise. "Kinda short notice, don't you think?"

"Not at all. She's been sequestered much too long and it's time for her to come out. So like I said, bring your family. Did the kids come up with food ideas?"

"Oh, anything goes, except pears. Tobias won't eat them - he doesn't like the gritty feel of them in his mouth. Are you guys cooking, or what?"

"Maureen offered to cater for us. Wasn't that sweet? I'll pass on the message about the pears. Our house, six in the evening, okay? See you then!" She hung up instantly.

Leslie eyed her phone for a moment before terminating her end of the call and sighing to herself. "That was fast work."

Christian yawned again before peering suspiciously at her from under his drooping eyelids. "I take it Tabitha's party has come to fruition?"

Leslie nodded and gave him a wry grin. "We have a social obligation for Monday at six, and I'm told you're required to be there."

She waited for his usual grumbling response, but for once he was quiet, closing his eyes and sitting still for a moment, then hitching one shoulder in a halfhearted shrug. "All right. Did she say who's supposed to bring Michiko?"

"No, but she didn't ask us to either, so I guess someone else is doing it." She watched him yawn again and grinned. "Go on to bed, Sleepy."

"Gladly," Christian murmured, though he didn't budge from his slouching posture on the loveseat near the stairs. "Come with me."

"You know I can't." Roarke was out and had asked Leslie to hold down the fort till he returned. "But it probably won't be much longer anyway."

"Then I'll wait here with you," he said, or rather slurred, his voice all but dying as he let his head slump to one side. Leslie grinned, got out of Roarke's chair and gave Christian's dark hair a good tousling.

That, of course, woke him right up. "Hey, stop that," he protested, annoyed, swatting her hands away. "Who are you to interrupt my nap?"

"Go to bed," Leslie said, leaning down to drop a kiss on his lips. "That's an order. If you sleep on that sofa, your neck and back will be killing you in the morning."

"Must you remind me of my relentless aging?" he grumbled, but pushed himself to his feet and started for the stairs. "Well enough, but try not to be long."

"I'll send Father a telepathic message telling him to get back here right now," Leslie said, earning a dirty look from him that made her grin. "Just go get some sleep. I'll be there when I get there."

Christian plodded up the stairs, and while she slit open envelopes, she absently listened to the sounds he made getting ready for bed. He had been silent for a while, and she was getting well into the latest stack of fantasy-request letters, when there came a knock on the door. She threw an incredulous glance at the grandfather clock before tucking a letter back into its envelope and calling, "Come in."

Her visitor turned out to be Michiko, surprising her greatly. "Wow. What brings you here at this hour?"

"I can't sleep," Michiko admitted, letting herself into the study and sinking into one of the leather chairs in front of the desk. "I told Mama-san I was going out for a walk, but that was almost an hour ago. I really haven't been getting much sleep since I came back, to be honest with you."

"Too much on your mind?" Leslie prompted.

Michiko shrugged. "I guess. I'm almost ready to rent my own apartment, even without my things here. Mama-san's place is just too small, and I'm already sick of living out of my suitcases."

"Did you make any progress on that house you want to build?" queried Leslie, settling back as if for a long siege.

"I'm still drawing up my ideas, but at least I was able to contact the architect you and Christian used. He said he's ready anytime I am. But I can't seem to get myself motivated. I mean, I've known for a long time what I want, but there's nothing driving me to get it done anytime soon, not even trying to stay out of my own way in Mama-san's apartment."

Something uneasy stirred deep within Leslie, and she considered for a moment before she decided to go ahead and mention it. "You're aware that Tabitha and the other girls are having a welcome-home party for you at the Ordoñezes' house on Monday."

Michiko's dark almond eyes flicked up for just a second to meet hers, as if mildly surprised by this. "Oh, that's nice, I guess. Well, it'll be nice to see the rest of the gang."

Leslie leaned forward, and in spite of herself a few lines from an old song scrolled through her head. _Chiquitita, tell me what's wrong / You're enchained by your own sorrow…_ That uneasiness squirmed in her gut and she wondered what it would take to pull her friend out of the doldrums. "Michiko, are you sure you're all right? Look, if you don't want to go to the party, just call up Tabitha and tell her so."

"Oh goodness, no. If she's already got it set up, I wouldn't want to make her waste all that effort. No, it's okay." Michiko seemed to go limp in the chair, her eyes losing focus and her voice drifting into a monotone.

_In your eyes / There is no hope for tomorrow…_

The line jolted Leslie into sitting up straight, which seemed to catch Michiko's attention. While she had it, Leslie pinned her friend with a look. "Dammit, Michiko, something's wrong." That song, she discovered, wouldn't let go. _How I hate to see you like this / There is no way you can deny it…_ "You need to talk to me. You need to talk to _some_one, anyway, and as long as you're here, it might as well be me. I know you'll be grieving for Errico a very long time, and that's perfectly understandable. But I think there's more to it than having just been widowed. You need to tell me what's really going on. I'll help you if I can, but I can't do it unless you talk to me."

With no warning at all, Michiko smashed a fist onto the chair arm with enough force to make Leslie recoil in her own seat. "I have nothing to _do!_ This is home, but there's no place for me here! I'm a queen with no king, no country, no home. No _purpose_. All I do is eat and sleep and take walks in the middle of the night. What am I going to do with myself?"

Leslie stared at her for a long speechless moment, her mind racing. _You were always sure of yourself / Now I see you've broken a feather / I hope we can patch it up together._ She gave her head a few hard, rapid shakes and knocked it against the heel of her hand, as if trying to expel water out of her ear. Michiko eyed her. "What's the matter?"

Leslie chuckled and shifted in the chair. "That song 'Chiquitita' by ABBA started scrolling through my head a few minutes ago and it won't go away. The thing is, it just fits this situation so perfectly. Anyway, consider what you used to do while you were Errico's wife, even before you became queen of Arcolos. You're still running your children's foundation, aren't you?"

"The Worldwide Orphans' Fund? Of course." Michiko began to toy with a pen that lay on the desk. "But that doesn't take much. It practically runs itself and barely needed me for any kind of supervision. I traveled a lot on behalf of king and country, but that's over now. I don't mind that - I can use a rest - but I already miss it a little. And I don't have a reason to do it anymore. I'm not trained to hold down any sort of a job. I don't really have to, but it'd keep me occupied. It's just that I can't do anything."

Leslie shot her a disgusted look. "Oh, you can too. You can sing."

"The Singing Queen," scoffed Michiko. "No thank you."

"You could teach students to sing," Leslie said, her patience beginning to fray, though she hid it the best she could. "You know how it is on this island - there are never enough art and music teachers. If you think you need qualification to be considered, then go for it, but in your case, with your history, it could possibly be waived."

"That'd make headlines," Michiko snorted. "From queen to teacher?"

Leslie stared at her, and Michiko stared expectantly back, as if waiting for the next suggestion to shoot down. But Leslie had had enough. "Michiko, if you're just going to nix every idea I have, there's no point in continuing this. Maybe while you're walking back to your mother's place, you should think about it yourself and find an idea of your own, if you don't like any of mine." She drew in a breath, trying to pretend she hadn't noticed Michiko's stunned expression. "Do you need a ride to Tabitha's on Monday?"

After a moment Michiko stood up, her delicate features icing over. "No, I can find my own way there, thanks anyway." She headed for the door.

"Michiko -" Leslie began, but her friend walked right out without looking back, and Leslie let out a heavy sigh and dropped back in the chair. _I guess I blew that one,_ she thought dismally, and wandered out to the terrace, trying to find a little solace in listening to a night crier calling from a nearby tree.

† † †

In the morning Roarke and Christian took note of her subdued demeanor, though the triplets seemed oblivious. They let it go till Noelle Tokita, that weekend's babysitter, came to collect Susanna, Karina and Tobias for a carefully supervised visit to the resort pool, which had recently had a children's wading pool added to it; the triplets were excited and gave each parent hasty, perfunctory hugs before falling into place around Noelle's feet like a band of wild ducklings.

Then Roarke inquired, "What's bothering you, Leslie? You were almost as quiet last night when I got back."

"And you didn't wake me up when you came to bed," Christian added.

"You were so knocked out, you never would've woken up anyway," she told him with a quirk that was meant to pass for a grin. At his amused shrug, she focused on her father. "I had a little visit from Michiko, and it didn't end very well."

"Oh?" Roarke prompted, and with that she explained to them both what had taken place the previous night. They listened without speaking till she had finished, then looked at each other before Roarke half-smiled and asked unexpectedly, "What are your thoughts, Christian?"

Christian's astonished expression made Roarke and Leslie laugh, and he threw Leslie a dirty look and rolled his eyes. "Oh, all right, if you're serious about knowing. It's classic. I saw it in my sister when we all thought Esbjörn had died. She had no interest in doing anything, even the things she had been most passionate about. Even her historical group held no allure for her, and once she asked me to stand in for her. But that's another story entirely. My point is that from the sound of it, Michiko is showing all the usual symptoms of depression caused by mourning. She was apparently looking for someone to solve her problem for her, and got upset when you couldn't. You'll just have to give her more time, I'm afraid. She's the only one who can get herself through this."

"Well said, Christian," Roarke said approvingly. "Do you agree, Leslie?"

She nodded. "Yeah, that occurred to me last night while I was trying to fall asleep. I think she wants to do something, but even she doesn't know just what. And it's not something somebody else can figure out for her."

"No," Roarke agreed, "it's a decision she must make for herself, no matter how much help she wants, or thinks she needs. Just try to be patient with her, Leslie. Only time will heal her, and no one in the world knows how much of that she will need."

§ § § - July 28, 2008

The Omamaras, Knights and Enstads gathered around Christian and Leslie's car, in a mild funk after what had turned out to be a resounding fiasco. "What a crappy party," Camille complained in disgust. "Tabitha almost singlehandedly ruined it, after all the hyping she did and all her badgering about us helping her plan it and making sure we showed up. And then Michiko doesn't even bother."

"Okay, okay, Camille, we get it," Jimmy assured her, patting her shoulder. "Let's just go on home before this gets any worse."

"But she's right," Leslie said, ushering the triplets into the car and helping them get strapped into their child seats. "Something's wrong with Tabitha."

"Did you notice Diane wasn't here?" asked Lauren, referring to their doll-refurbishing friend who lived toward the western end of the island. "You think she and Tabitha had such a falling-out that Tabitha didn't even bother to invite her? I know we don't see Diane that much, but I didn't think it had gone that far."

"Well, I can explain that at least," Leslie said. "Her daughter's resettled permanently in Minnesota, and Diane decided to move back there so she could be closer to her family."

Christian slapped the roof of the car, catching their collective attention. "She lived not too far from here, didn't she? I seem to remember Fernando mentioning a few times in the recent past that he was glad Tabitha had a friend who lived close by, whereas all the rest of us are much closer to the resort. If Diane has left permanently, that may leave Tabitha feeling lonely and isolated."

Leslie, Lauren and Camille looked at each other, and Leslie ventured, "You think that's it?"

Camille snorted. "Well, if that's what the problem is, she's handling it like a seven-year-old whose best friend's dad just got transferred to another state."

"No kidding," Brian agreed. "I wonder if Fernando knows about that."

"I should think he would," Christian mused, "but the way he was acting seems to suggest that he doesn't - to me, anyway. Perhaps the best thing we can do is just get on with our own lives, move on as though everything were the usual, and wait to see if Michiko manages to recover enough to start resuming her life and whether Tabitha's sulk is due to something other than having a friend move away. Does anyone need a ride home?"

Brian and Lauren, who had only their four-year-old son Kevin with them, accepted; but Jimmy checked his watch. "Thanks, but no - your car would be packed to the rafters. The next bus should be around in a few more minutes. You guys go on home, and we'll see you later. Oh yeah - by the way, Christian, I'll probably drop by your office tomorrow. My laptop's slower than ever."

"Did you defrag it?" Christian asked.

"Yeah, but it didn't help. Maybe it just needs a cleaning. You'll be there to take a look at it, won't you?"

Christian grinned. "Don't tell me I'm the only one you trust with that thing." Jimmy laughed, and he chuckled in response. "Yes, I'll be there for a while, but only a couple of hours or so. Come in around ten if you can."

These arrangements made, the Omamaras headed for the nearby bus stop and the Enstads and Knights got into the car, heading for home with a mixture of relief and disappointment. Leslie let her head fall back against the headrest as Christian piloted the car east along the Ring Road, and he glanced at her. "Are you all right, my Rose?"

"Just tired," Leslie said through a long exhalation. "Maybe I'll just sleep tomorrow completely away."

"Good luck with that," said Lauren skeptically, and the adults all laughed. "I can't say I blame you, though. What a fiasco that party turned into. Camille told me at one point that she just wanted to slap some sense into Tabitha." She let the chuckles pass, then peered at Leslie curiously. "Wasn't Michiko supposed to build a house next door to you?"

"That was her plan," said Leslie. "She even went so far as to sign the papers Father had drawn up and collect her copy of the deed to the land, and I've heard she saw the architect who worked with Christian on our house. But we thought we'd be waking up to construction noise every day by now, and so far, nothing."

Lauren was quiet for a minute, making an acknowledging noise; Brian let the time elapse, then remarked with mock suspicion, "I can see cogs cranking around in that head of yours. What kind of scheme are you cooking up?"

"Scheme?" Lauren repeated in all innocence. "Who, me?"

Brian scoffed, half laughing. "Yeah, you. All I have to say is this - whatever you're planning, leave me out of it."

Lauren rewarded that with a loud raspberry that pitched the four children headlong into a manic laughing fit. "I won't need you anyway, spoilsport. But Leslie, if you decide to opt out too, I promise I'll let you know what happens."

"That's great, but what're you planning to do?" Leslie asked.

"When I've finished figuring it out, I'll tell you," Lauren told her. "For right now, let's just try to put that catastrophic party behind us and think positive."


	4. Chapter 4

§ § § - July 29, 2008

Christian had gone to work the next morning, presumably to be present when Jimmy brought in his ailing laptop, and Maureen had taken Susanna and Karina with her to be companions for April for a trip to the amusement park with Myeko and her children. So Leslie and Ingrid were cleaning house, and Tobias was constantly getting in their way, when Lauren arrived with Kevin. Leslie laughed when she saw them at the door. "Fancy meeting you here. I thought you'd be on the boat."

Lauren grinned. "I took a little time off. It has to do with that plan for Michiko. Is Tobias around?"

"I sent him out back," said Leslie and grinned at Kevin. "Go into the backyard and you can help Tobias build his fort." Kevin lit up at that and ran out, and Leslie finished dusting a tabletop. "Maureen took the girls to the amusement park so April could have somebody to hang out with. So what's this grand plan?"

"I guess your nanny still doesn't understand English?" asked Lauren, sounding hopeful, glancing toward the stairs where the vacuum cleaner could be heard whining from one of the bedrooms.

Leslie paused on her way to the kitchen to put away the dusting equipment. "Is this plan of yours that big a secret?"

Lauren chuckled and shrugged. "Well, no, I guess not, but I just don't feel like broadcasting it around the island. I was having this brainstorm on the way home with you guys last evening. We all know Michiko's grieving and at loose ends. And we also know, thanks to your telling the rest of us, that nothing you came up with to get her out of the dumps met with her approval. What we don't know is what you suggested."

"Oh." Leslie headed for the kitchen, with Lauren behind her, to tuck away the spray polish and the rag she'd been using. "Well, as I recall it now, she claimed to have no qualification to do anything. She said she can't travel since she's no longer acting in the capacity of the ruling monarch's consort. I said she could sing, and she didn't like that, so I offered the idea of her teaching music, or at least singing, to schoolchildren. That didn't go over well either." She turned her back to the counter and leaned against it, meeting Lauren's gaze. "Unfortunately, that's when I started losing my patience, and she walked out."

Lauren nodded. "Singing. I think you were on the right track there. Didn't she have a music studio in that cavern of a palace they have in Arcolos?"

Leslie had to think about that for a long moment before something hit her. "Hey…" she murmured, as an old memory swam to the surface of her brain and she replayed it in her mind. "We granted this fantasy a long time ago. It was shortly after I'd met Christian and he'd discovered Arnulf had married him off, and before I realized it was Arnulf's fault and not Christian's. You've heard of the Foster Sisters, haven't you?"

"Sure," said Lauren, then lit up. "Hey, I remember now! They were here looking to get famous, and one of them had an addiction problem. Michiko and her family were here on the island, and she offered to help launch them into the music business."

"Right-using the studio she said Errico had had built for her. Is that what _you_ were thinking? I mean, I should've thought of it, but, well, you know…"

"I kind of had something like that in mind, yeah. My first thought actually was that maybe she should have a recording studio built right onto her house, so she could play around in there and maybe resume her recording career, but you just mentioned she nixed the idea of becoming the 'Singing Queen'. So I was about to call it quits and go on home, but then you remembered that fantasy. If Michiko doesn't want to sing, if she doesn't care about reviving her own career, then maybe she could help other aspiring musicians. There's still a recording studio in town, isn't there? No reason she couldn't use her influence to help get some young hopeful's career off the ground. She could be a sort of talent scout."

Leslie nodded, liking the idea the more she thought it over, but looked at Lauren with a trace of skepticism. "What if she decides that idea's trash, too?"

"I tell you what," Lauren said a little stridently, "if she does, then she's on her own and she better not expect any more help out of us. I mean, sure, we're sympathetic, but she can't lean on us for every stupid little thing. We have our own lives to live, and she has to live _her_ own instead of waiting for somebody to give her a push."

"True," said Leslie. "Okay, so we give her this last collective kick in the butt, and then it's up to her to run with it."

"Exactly." Lauren nodded firmly once and snapped her fingers at the same time. "The question now is, when do you want to do this?"

"Me?" Leslie repeated. "Wait a minute -"

"I meant both of us," Lauren clarified, grinning when Leslie pretended to faint with relief. "You said she wasn't exactly sweetness and light around you the other night, and believe me, I never intended to shove this off on you. I just thought it'd work better if we both did this, so that we outnumber her."

Leslie laughed. "I like your thinking. Okay, let's have something to drink and go out back to keep an eye on our sons, and figure this thing out." They got outside, put a stop to a burping contest between Kevin and Tobias, and began hashing out ideas.

By the time Christian returned, the boys had initiated another burping contest; and their mothers, intent on their plan, hadn't even noticed. "All right, you two," Christian said, giving the boys a look. "Tobias Lukas Roarke, you know that's not polite, so enough is enough, do you understand?"

"How come it's not polite, Daddy?" Tobias wanted to know. "Don't you have to make a baby burp? How come it's okay for a baby to burp but nobody else?"

Their conversation had finally caught Lauren and Leslie's attention, and they listened in while Christian tried to answer his son's question. "A baby has to burp, because if that gas stays in a baby's stomach, it'll hurt."

Tobias tilted his head so far to the side that his ear nearly met his shoulder. "But Daddy, gas hurts my stomach too. So I _gotta_ burp. But it's not fair if it's okay for a baby but not for me."

"A baby doesn't know any better," Christian said. "You do. When you burp, you should at least say 'excuse me'. I know we've taught you that."

"Yeah, but we still gotta burp," Tobias insisted, while Lauren and Leslie grinned at each other. "And people always go 'hooray!' when a baby burps, but when I burp, you and Mommy get mad at me. That's not fair."

Leslie snickered, and Christian overheard and did a little double take over his shoulder at her. "So you think it's funny?" he inquired with a grin. "You try explaining it."

"But you're doing such a stellar job of it, my love," Leslie riposted, grinning back.

"I bet your stomach hurts too, Dad, if you don't burp," Tobias put in then, breaking up Lauren and Leslie completely. Kevin burst into giggles as well; Tobias giggled too, but he continued to eye Christian, clearly expecting an answer.

Christian let out a sigh and said patiently, "It's one thing if you _have_ to burp, Tobias. And yes, sometimes too much gas does hurt, even an adult, and we have to burp too. But we say 'excuse me'; and you and Kevin were doing it on purpose, which definitely isn't polite. So I want you both to stop immediately."

"Okay, okay," Tobias grumbled, shrugging. "C'mon, Kevin, let's build some more of my fort. I gotta make it really good so my sisters can't get in it."

"Yes, you two build your fort," Christian murmured, watching them head off for the far boundary of the Enstad backyard to reach through the fence and scoop up loose brush for their construction project. He turned to Leslie and inquired, "How long were those two sitting there burping without you and Lauren hearing it?"

"How should we know?" Leslie asked with a grin. "We stopped one burping contest when we came out here, and we thought they got the message. I take it you're home for the day. Did Jimmy's laptop come out okay?"

Christian chuckled and settled his stance, pushing his hands into his pockets. "I think it's terminal. I cleaned out quite a bit of malware that he'd unwittingly downloaded, but it still ran more slowly than he liked, so I told him it's likely just old age and he'll have to either put up with it or replace it. Now what are you two plotting?"

"Something to get Michiko off her brooding little behind once and for all," Lauren said. "We're down to crazy stuff that'd never work."

"Ah," Christian said, nodding. "Have you talked to Mr. Roarke yet?"

Leslie and Lauren looked at each other, and Lauren lit up. "Hey, maybe there's some upcoming fantasy that Michiko could take part in," she suggested.

"Maybe," Leslie mused. "I hadn't thought of that. Let's see if Father's available." She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket while Christian retreated into the house to change clothes, and called the main house.

"Fancy hearing from you on your day off," Roarke said without preamble when she connected, making her roll her eyes. _Tobias was right when he said "Grandfather knows everything",_ she thought. "What can I do for you?"

"Do you happen to know if there's a fantasy request somewhere, either scheduled or not, where someone wants to become a music star?" Leslie asked. Having phrased the question that way, she made a face at herself, but Roarke replied before she could think any more about it.

"Well," he said, "I had nothing scheduled for the next few weeks, but I do know there are several such fantasy requests waiting for responses. Why do you ask?"

She explained quickly about the dinner-party disaster and Michiko's ongoing downcast attitude, and the idea she and Lauren had come up with between them and Christian's suggestion. "I see," Roarke mused. "Perhaps you'd be willing to come here to the house and perform a little search; I'm afraid I must leave within another ten minutes for the monthly inspection at the amusement park, and that will take the entire afternoon."

"I think we can do that," Leslie said. "Thanks, Father, that'll be a big help." She hung up and told Lauren what Roarke had said. "If you feel like a ride…"

"Hey, if it means getting to see an actual letter from a future guest, count me in," said Lauren with enthusiasm, and Leslie laughed. They waited a few minutes till Christian came out with a glass in one hand, then asked him to watch the boys while Leslie and Lauren made a trip to the main house.

"So there's something available?" he asked with interest. "Well, good luck then. I'll just keep an eye on the two burp champions here." Lauren and Leslie laughed, bid him goodbye and headed for the car.

At the main house, Lauren flattened her palms on the desk and looked on while Leslie filed through letters, the latest batch of which Roarke had left on the desk for her to sort. She glanced up at her eager friend, then grinned. "Might as well sit down, this could take a while."

"Don't you have any that're already opened?" Lauren asked.

Leslie thought about it. "Father said he had several requests, so they must be here somewhere. Tell you what, you sort these out. Just split them into two piles - bills in one, letters in the other. You can usually tell them apart. I'll refine the separations later on. While you're doing that, I'll see if I can find the ones Father said he's seen already." Lauren dropped into a chair and started to separate mail, her expression that of a child who's seen a well-laden tree on Christmas morning; Leslie grinned and headed for the credenza to go through files.

"What if the phone rings while we're doing this?" Lauren asked eventually.

"I'll handle it, don't worry. Just have fun with this behind-the-scenes peek," Leslie suggested, snickering and turning back to the credenza. "Oh, here's one. Good - I wasn't sure we'd find any."

"Oh, c'mon, seriously? Who doesn't want to be a rock star at some point in their life?" Lauren snorted cheerfully. "I bet we end up with a good dozen at least."

She was right; by the time the two friends had gone through whatever mail was there, they had culled out sixteen letters requesting a fantasy to be a rock or country music star for a weekend. Then Leslie found one that stilled her for a moment. "Oh boy."

Instantly Lauren looked up. "What?"

"Wait'll you see this one. This woman says she always wanted to be a singer - not rock or country, but show tunes, just like Michiko used to sing. She doesn't think it's possible to make a career out of it, but she wants to present herself that way for a weekend, since her tenth high-school reunion is being held on the island the last weekend of August, and she wants to impress her old classmates with what she's doing."

"Oooh," Lauren said, wincing. "And if they find out it's only a fantasy and she's really just a stay-at-home mom from Twin Falls, Minnesota, or something…."

"That's my thought too," said Leslie, perusing the letter. "Although she's actually from Arcadia, California." She tossed Lauren a grin, and Lauren stuck out her tongue. They both laughed, then returned to the letter. "She doesn't say what she really does for a living, but she mentions being an avid shower singer and in-the-car singer too. You know - driving somewhere by yourself…throw a CD in the player, and sing your heart out."

Lauren laughed. "Yeah, I can just picture it. Well, I think we ought to choose that one for Michiko too. Even if it means she has to evaluate three different people - well, hey, it'll keep her busy, right?"

Someone knocked, and they both called for the guest to come in; a second later, Myeko emerged into the room. "Oh, there's two of you."

"Hi, Myeko," Leslie and Lauren greeted her, and Leslie added, "What made you drop in here? Father's over at the amusement park for the inspection, so he'll be out the rest of the day, if you were looking for him."

"No, I was walking past here, taking the usual shortcut to get from town over to the hospital - my dad's in for a gallbladder removal - and I saw your car parked out here, so I decided to stop by and see what you're up to. Is that mail? As in fantasy requests?" Myeko jumped the steps into the study and filled the remaining chair, leaning over the desk with an eager look and then hesitating before peering at Lauren. "And how come you get to help?"

"It's for Michiko," Lauren explained, and filled Myeko in on the plan while Leslie slit open another envelope, skimmed over the contents, and put it into another pile for Roarke to look at later. "We figured, if this doesn't work, nothing will. We've already found a really good one, too."

"Yeah? Is it okay if I look at it?" Myeko inquired.

Leslie handed her the letter from California. "Sure, go ahead. We're still trying to find a rock-star request and a country-star one. But that one hit us because the writer mentions the same kind of music Michiko used to record."

"Oh wow, yeah, it sure does," Myeko marveled, looking over the page. "I bet she's one of those people who can sing circles around most of today's pop stars, only nobody knows it because she's too shy even to sing karaoke."

"Even drunk," Lauren added, setting them all off into a round of laughter. "Yeah, I bet Michiko could really work with that one. Well, if Leslie's willing to split the work, we might find a couple more a little quicker, and then we could all go visit your dad."

"Actually," Myeko said, "that letter reminds me. Our own high-school reunion is the 20th of August - that's a Wednesday, in case you have to clear your schedules."

"Oh, man," muttered Lauren. "I forgot, this year's the twenty-fifth." She looked up. "Do you think we can get Michiko to go?"

"She's going if we have to tie her up and throw her in the backseat of our car," Leslie said with determination, making Lauren and Myeko grin. "Come on, let's get to work on these things. Then I can see whether we can shoehorn them in on some near-future weekend so Michiko can get to work sooner."

They managed to find a rock-star and a country-star wannabe, and Leslie paged through Roarke's desk calendar, looking for the earliest possible date to shoehorn them in. To her surprise, she came across a date in August - the final weekend of the month, as it happened - when no fantasies had been scheduled at all, and she scowled at it. "How'd that happen? I thought we were booked till the end of the year. I can see where I penciled in a couple of fantasies, too, and someone erased it."

Lauren and Myeko squinted at the page, then each other, and finally Leslie. "What an interesting coincidence," Myeko drawled.

"I doubt it," Leslie returned dryly, and both her friends snickered in appreciation. "I'll just write it down as a triple weekend and get the confirmation letters sent out for these, so these folks can make their travel plans."

"So how're you planning to tell Michiko about this?" Myeko inquired, glancing back and forth between Leslie and Lauren. "If she's not talking to you, Leslie, she might not be too thrilled about this."

"There's safety in numbers," Lauren said. "I was planning to have Leslie come with me to Michiko's mom's place and we'd tell her about this, but she might be more inclined to listen if there're three of us than just two. And if she tries to blow us off, I vote we give her a piece of our minds."

Leslie grinned a little ruefully. "I think so too. She asked for help, yet she dismisses every suggestion she's given. Even her mother's patience has to run out sometime, and I've never seen a more patient woman than Miyoshi Tokita."

"Yeah, even when I all but trashed her house when I was six," Myeko agreed, rolling her eyes in self-mockery. "Yeah, okay, I'm up for it. I think we should go now, though, so in case she does blow us off, I can cry on my dad's shoulder when we get to the hospital."

Leslie slipped the letters into her purse and ushered her friends out and to the car, and in a few minutes they were at the apartment complex on the outskirts of town. It was Miyoshi who answered; her wizened little doll's face brightened at sight of the visitors. "Is good you come," she said, almost in a whisper. "Michiko needs her friends."

"Is she all right?" Lauren asked.

"Very sad, all time." The diminutive elderly lady stepped aside to let the girls in and closed the door behind them. "Is not good for her. I hear her cry in night, every night. I try tell her some things she should do - build her house, yes? But she won't listen. You come and talk sense to her. Is sad my son-in-law is dead, yes…but is time for Michiko to come out of his grave and live her life."

They promised to try their best, and she beamed at them and whisked away to the kitchen to mix up something to drink. The threesome ventured down the hallway toward the bedroom, and Myeko mumbled, "Come out of his grave, huh? I gotta remember that so I can find some future column to use it in. Maybe I'll write about Michiko herself and try to embarrass her out of her funk."

"You're hopeless," Lauren teased her, just as they came abreast of the doorway and saw Michiko sitting at the window, motionless, staring through. "Hi, Michiko."

Michiko didn't move, so Myeko grunted, moved into the room and waved a hand in front of Michiko's face. "Hey - wake up down there. It's us, your friends. You do still have some, although at the rate you're going, not for much longer."

Michiko stared at her, then shook her head. "You don't understand. None of you can possibly understand how I'm feeling."

"Maybe Lauren and I can't," Myeko shot back, "but Leslie can, and you know it. You totally forgot about Teppo, didn't you?"

"I'm not sure she remembers," Lauren said, sounding acerbic. "She wasn't here when Leslie got widowed and came back from Finland; she was too busy with that music career that she thinks now she's too good for."

Michiko got to her feet and whipped around to glare at them. "I didn't ask the three of you to come over here. I don't know why you're wasting your time. It's my problem and I'll get over it just fine, thank you."

"Not from where I'm standing," Leslie said. "Okay, listen, Michiko, and listen good. This is it. Myeko reminded us that our twenty-fifth high-school reunion is on August 20, and you're going, whether you want to or not. If we have to, we'll all gang up on you and bodily carry you there. And when we do, you'll have a good time, or else you can land yourself in every gossip rag in the world telling everybody to flake off because you're too busy trying to climb into Errico's grave with him. It's one thing to mourn, Michiko, but you've been carrying this way too far. You still have your life to live, and your daughter's coming out from Arcolos in about a month. And where the heck are you going to put her, since you haven't even started getting your house built yet?"

"Leslie, you're being cruel," Michiko protested, looking shocked.

"I'm just exasperated," Leslie retorted. "You came to me one night and specifically asked me for ideas as to what to do with yourself, and then shot down everything I came up with. And now you won't listen to any of us and you've decided I'm number one on your you-know-what list. You were the one who wanted to come back here to live after Errico's death. And you knew from the time you married that man that you'd have to live in his country, and that the only way you could come back here was if he passed on. Well, that's what he did. I refuse to believe he'd actually want you to waste the rest of your life moping around wishing he were still alive."

"Michiko, we know you're grieving for Errico," Lauren put in, "and we understand that, even if we can only imagine how you're feeling right now. But you didn't die with him. And now that you're back here, we want to pull you back into our circle and do things as a gang again. Get out of your funk, please, and stop treating us like pariahs. We just want to help, but you won't let us."

Michiko stared at them, one by one, for long moments apiece, before swallowing and turning away. "Don't bother. I just want you to leave me alone. Go away."

They tried to protest, but Michiko acted as if they weren't there, resuming her seat and staring out the window. Her three friends looked at each other, shook their heads, and filed dejectedly out of the room and the apartment, unaware that Miyoshi watched with a worried frown and a set jaw.


	5. Chapter 5

§ § § - August 20, 2008

"I still want to throttle Nick," Myeko was grumbling as Leslie piloted a borrowed rover west along the Ring Road toward the high school, where the class of 1983 was holding its quarter-century reunion. "I thought all the guys were going to come with us like they did at the twentieth reunion, and then he decides to have a manly-man party on the same night of this one. I didn't think he hated the last one that much."

"It's probably got nothing to do with hating them," Maureen said sensibly. "It's just that none of the husbands went to the same school with us in the same year, so there's nothing in it for them. Let them enjoy themselves, and we'll do the same. It'll be girls' night out. I've been looking forward to this for weeks. Grady's spent the whole summer picking on me about all the 80s music he thinks they'll be playing while we're there."

"Your husband really needs to cultivate a broader appreciation of music," said Lauren. "Or at least a little more tolerance."

"You know what?" Leslie said. "I've been wondering if we're going to see Tabitha there. I called Fernando at his office the other day and he said he's going to make sure she goes, but she refused to go with us and he wasn't prepared to defy her in that."

Camille snorted. "Wimp. I still think we should've swung by their house so I could go in and grab her hair and drag her out like a caveman does with his wife."

"But that'd make you the caveman," Leslie pointed out, touching off laughter. "If she's there, then chances are we'll see her at some point."

"She needs to apologize," Myeko said firmly. "Maybe she'll be ready to come around and tell us what her problem is, even if we can't help her with it."

"And meanwhile, the five of _us_, at least, are gonna have some serious fun," Lauren put in. "We didn't stay very long at the twentieth reunion, so maybe we should put in some good time at this one, touch base with some classmates."

"Do you think everybody from the class of eighty-three is gonna make it?" Camille asked, and the speculation surrounding that topic kept them occupied for the remainder of the drive to the high school.

Inside the building, they followed the noise down to the cafeteria where the six of them had spent so many weekdays chatting, comparing classes and teachers, complaining about their lunches and/or their siblings, and on Mondays, getting the scoop from Leslie about the weekend just past. "The good old days," Myeko said, sniffing deeply and then freezing in mid-step, her face taking on a very strange expression that made her friends start giggling helplessly. "Seriously, are the lunches _still_ that bad? I can smell them!"

Laughing, they managed to find an empty table big enough to accommodate them all, with a few extra chairs, and settled down around it, scanning the room for faces they might recognize. "You see Tabitha anywhere?" Lauren asked.

"No, but that doesn't mean she's not here," Camille said. "There's a bigger crowd than I thought there'd be, this early on. Leslie, have you heard anything from Frida?"

"I asked her about the reunion as far back as March or April, but she said she couldn't make it. She told me it coincided with her scheduled vacation to the Isle of Capri."

"Oh wow," the others exclaimed enviously, and Lauren added, "Do you suppose any of the Coral Island grads will show up?"

"Frida's the one who was friends with Coral Island kids more than with us Fantasy Islanders," Maureen mused. "Unless you can remember anyone, Myeko."

"Oh, some," said Myeko. "I remember a bunch of them used to come to my Halloween parties every year. The only two I really remember that well were a couple of Frida's friends, Michelle Stockwell and Caitlyn DiAngelo. I tell you one thing, I hope I don't see that crazy Rae Ellen Moore. And if I do, I hope like heck she's not the hostess, like she was for the twentieth reunion. She tried to make a bad comic routine out of it."

"Maybe that's the real reason we left early," Leslie suggested with a grin, and they all laughed again. "Oh geez-look who just came in. It's Cori Mukulani."

"I thought she left the island," said Lauren in surprise.

"No, her sister did," Leslie said. "Cori's still around. Still works down at that seedy bar near the fishing village."

"And still as fat as ever," Camille said. The girls watched Cori lumber across the room and push a pair of chairs together, then lower her bulk atop them, before Camille let out a sigh and said, _"She_ never changes, at least."

"Unlike everybody else, you mean?" suggested Myeko with a smirk, and the girls shared another laugh. "No, you're right, she looks almost exactly the same, except maybe a little older."

"And a little fatter," Camille added.

"Maybe a lot fatter," Lauren said. "Dragging around all that weight can't be easy, not to mention being as unhealthy as you can get." She squinted at Leslie. "Didn't you say she had a fantasy one time?"

Leslie groaned and rolled her eyes. "What, didn't I tell you guys about it?"

"I don't remember hearing about it," Myeko hinted, eyeing Leslie with an expectant look. "I can say for sure that you never told _me_ about it at least."

"Probably because it was so improbable. She came to us begging to meet Carlono because she said she'd followed his exploits in the news for years and claimed to be in love with him. But she knew she'd never get anything more than a second revolted glance from him, so she asked Father to work some magic on her…and he made her thin for a weekend." Leslie shook her head with the memory. "It was the most…_thorough_ transformation I've ever seen. Without all that weight, she looked like a different person."

"Crap," Camille said, astonished. "Cori and Carlono. I can't even picture it."

Leslie snickered. "We had to do more than just remove her extra weight for the weekend. She had to have her hair done, get a new wardrobe, even get her legs shaved for what I think she said was the first time in her life. She had to have dance lessons, and we even had to recruit Christian's niece to teach her how to conduct herself around royalty. You guys missed quite a little show there."

Her friends were shaking their heads. "I wish we _had_ seen it," Lauren said. "So what kind of impression did she make on Carlono?"

"None that lasted beyond the weekend," Leslie said. "That abrasive personality of hers just wouldn't be subdued in spite of everything-even her own hopeless adoration of him. We haven't seen her since then…not that I'm keen on that happening." She caught sight of something from the corner of her eye and glanced at the door, but didn't recognize the person who entered. "I wonder what's supposed to happen - do we have some kind of self-appointed MC like with Rae Ellen five years ago, or is this just a free-for-all where you go floating around looking for people you used to know?"

Her friends laughed, but before anyone could say anything, the cafeteria door opened and Michiko came in, her face thunderous and every step taken at a push and a strongly whispered admonition from her mother, who was right behind her. Miyoshi spotted the girls first and said something else to Michiko, her voice rising just enough to allow the girls to hear that she was so angry she was scolding her daughter in Japanese. She pointed at the girls' table and gave Michiko a command, and Michiko threw them a look and began to shuffle in their direction, her expression forbidding. Miyoshi nodded once, waved at the girls and disappeared.

"Well well," Camille said. "So you showed up, and it took your mother to get you here. Get that look off your face. This is supposed to be fun."

Michiko's only answer was a glare, and Lauren sighed. "Well, we were talking about people we used to know. Maybe the idea is to mingle and try to find those people, instead of sitting around here waiting for them to stumble over us. Come on, Michiko, I'm sure you'll remember some people from choir."

They decided to meet at the exit in about an hour to find out whether any of them had met up with past acquaintances, and then split up to look for them. Michiko, however, stuck with Leslie, who if the truth be told was slightly relieved at this, and for more than one reason. She was nervous; she could remember only two occasions on which she hadn't had her friends around her for at least some part of the school day: on her very first day in eighth grade when she had first come to live with Roarke and Tattoo, and in her senior year when the other girls had all had the mumps and the only person who would sit with her was Cori Mukulani. "Good," she said without thinking.

Michiko looked askance at her. "Why?" she asked, showing some animation for the first time.

Leslie grinned sheepishly. "Oh, it's a dumb reason. Don't pay any attention to me. I'm just kind of surprised you didn't go off by yourself either." Michiko simply shrugged, and Leslie hid her disappointment and glanced around. "Let me know when you see some people from the choir, okay?"

Within a moment Michiko indicated a group with a listless gesture, and Leslie towed her over to them, then watched while they surrounded Michiko and exclaimed over how good she looked and how sorry they were about Errico's passing. Then one of them asked, "So what plans have you got now that you're back here for good?"

Michiko twisted her mouth, her eyes skittering away. "I, uh…I don't know yet."

"First she's going to get her house built," Leslie put in.

"Well, yes, that," Michiko allowed, shrugging. "But after that, well…"

"Whatever you do, good luck," someone offered, and Michiko smiled her thanks; the group drifted away, much to Leslie's surprise, and she eyed her friend oddly.

"Are you sure you knew them from choir?" she asked.

Michiko nodded, her prodded-bear mien slowly dissolving as she pondered the question. "They're probably scared off by the fact that I'm a queen, or at least a former queen. The position taught me the true meaning of that cliché _It's lonely at the top._ Everybody either is intimidated by you or thinks you're stuck-up."

Leslie considered that. "I guess I can see what you mean. Well, there's gotta be somebody around here who doesn't get starstruck at sight of you."

"You must have had some people from your classes who weren't part of our group, but you were still friends with," Michiko said questioningly.

Leslie glanced around them, shaking her head slowly. "Not really. I remember tutoring a girl for a while in senior year, but she was a year behind us." She focused on her friend. "It took me years to figure this out, but I finally came to understand that I knew only our group because I was famous for being 'Mr. Roarke's ward'. I was unapproachable. It's the same reason I never had a date all the way through high school. You remember how it was with your brother and his friends. Boys had enough guts to make fun of me, but they never asked me out."

Michiko made a thoughtful noise. "I guess I can see what you mean. When you didn't have any classes with any of us, what was it like?"

"Quiet. I just did my schoolwork in those classes and that was it. Sometimes I'd get one or two of those boys who picked on me, and that made it harder, but it's not like anyone jumped to my defense or even tried to make a friendly overture. And in the early days, in both eighth grade and ninth, I tried. I had you guys to give me some extra confidence that I could make friends after all, so when we started ninth grade, I tried to strike up some more friendships. It never worked out, so I gave up."

"Because you had the notoriety that came with being Mr. Roarke's ward," Michiko supplied, a quizzical tone in her voice.

"Right. But I didn't know that then. I just thought there must be something wrong with me, or them, or something. Anyway, maybe that's what's happening to you now. They don't feel comfortable around you anymore because of your social position."

"Hm. Well, let's go find the others and see if they had any better luck."

Leslie agreed, hoping Michiko's mellower mood would permanently supplant the one she had arrived in, and soon they came upon Maureen; she was standing on the edge of a threesome who were chatting eagerly about some long-ago memory. Maureen herself was listening in and chuckling, but she wasn't involved in the conversation; she must have seen them coming in her peripheral, for she turned and brightened at sight of them. "Hi!"

The trio she stood beside broke off their reminiscences and looked around; Maureen took quick advantage of the lull. "You guys remember Leslie Hamilton and Michiko Tokita, right? And you two probably remember Katie Greer and Heather Anderson and Kymmie Sunderland." She gestured toward the threesome.

Truthfully, Leslie didn't remember them at all, but she hid it, smiling and nodding. "Nice to see you guys again. How've things been since high school?"

"Not bad," Heather Anderson told her. "We're all married, living in different parts of the country…we've been keeping in touch by e-mail for a few years now and we couldn't wait to get together at this reunion. After all, it's supposed to be a time when you find your old friends and have fun remembering, right?"

"And we were just remembering how much trouble Kymmie had with teachers never getting her name right," added Katie Greer with a giggle.

That was when Leslie remembered "Kymmie with a Y" Sunderland, who had shown up at Myeko's Halloween party in their tenth-grade year wearing a T-shirt that had proclaimed in huge neon-yellow letters, "I AM KYMMIE AND DON'T YOU FORGET IT!" She grinned at the memory. "Do you still have that T-shirt?"

All the others acquired blank looks - not only Maureen and Michiko, but Heather, Katie and even Kymmie. They stared at Leslie, whose smile faded a little with embarrassment; and Kymmie asked in perplexity, "What T-shirt?"

"The one with the big yellow message on the front that told people not to forget your name," Leslie prompted, though she could feel her face flaming and wondered how obvious it was in the fluorescent-lit lunchroom. Their silence stretched, so she added a little desperately, "You wore it to Myeko Sensei's tenth-grade Halloween party."

Katie and Heather shrugged at each other; Kymmie went on staring at Leslie, who was now wishing she had never opened her mouth. But Michiko suddenly laughed, shocking both Maureen and Leslie. They glanced in amazement at each other while Michiko exclaimed, "Oh, I remember that now! It was a bright-red shirt with huge yellow letters on it. Nobody could possibly have missed it. You told a bunch of us a story of a teacher who never remembered how to spell your name and how fed up you were with it."

"Oh yeah, that's right," Maureen blurted. "I thought anyone who missed that message had to be blind."

A pained look crept over Kymmie's face at that point as recognition finally took hold, and she screwed up her nose. "I never got to wear it to school. When I put it on the Monday after Halloween, my mother made me take it off. She must have thrown it out while I was in school that day, because I never saw it again."

"You must've had to put up with that teacher all year," Leslie said with sympathy.

Kymmie snorted. "Yeah, well, stuff happens, I guess. We were talking about a teacher who was always calling me Kerry instead of Kymmie." She tossed Leslie a look. "I'm sure you never had that kind of problem."

"Only because I was the only Leslie in school, I imagine," Leslie ventured.

"The famous Leslie Hamilton," Heather said, arching an eyebrow, and Leslie felt her face heat up again.

Maureen cleared her throat. "Well, it was nice seeing you again, you guys. I think I see somebody else over there that I was hoping to talk to tonight." She gestured with her head. "Come on, let's catch her before she leaves."

Leslie thought she had been bluffing to get them away from their classmates, but in fact Maureen made a beeline for a small group of about half a dozen people standing in a loose knot, chatting gaily and laughing often. She greeted them brightly, and they all turned to see who had hailed them, then visibly stiffened up when they saw who was with her. Maureen, oblivious at first, went on to grasp a woman's shoulder. "Hi, Paula, glad I caught you! How've you been?"

Paula smiled, looking a little uncertain. "Fine, how about you?"

"Pretty good, can't complain. You remember us, right? Maureen Tomai, Leslie Hamilton and Michiko Tokita?"

"Yeah," Paula murmured, and a few reserved nods went around. "Yeah, I do now. Nice to see you again." She flicked a nervous glance at Michiko. "How…uh, how's queenhood treating you?" A nervous laugh rippled through the group.

Michiko reddened, but remained calm, perhaps from her years of being Errico's wife and the necessity of comporting herself a certain way in public. "Oh, that's over now. I'm back home for good. I'll always miss my husband, of course…"

Leslie watched the group exchange glances; no one spoke, but there were a couple of quick nods. "Yeah, I guess," Paula said lamely.

"I bet you'll miss all the traveling and that palace and the money," observed one of the men snidely. Leslie stared at him; Maureen's smile collapsed, and even some of his companions had the grace to blush and reprimand him. He looked startled. "Hey, I was just kidding. Can't you take a joke?"

"Bad taste, Brad," rebuked another man, shaking his head.

"You've done pretty well for yourself too," said another woman after an awkward pause. "Marrying a prince and all."

Leslie hitched a shoulder, unsure what to say to such a thing. Maureen put in, "How about you? I hear you started your own business a few years back."

Conversation began to roll again, in self-conscious starts, but as Maureen, Leslie and Michiko excused themselves and left, they heard the chatter well back up in earnest and looked at one another. "Something weird's going on here," Leslie complained. "Nobody seems to want to talk to us."

"I'll say," Maureen agreed, frowning. "I wonder if the others had any better luck."


	6. Chapter 6

§ § § - August 20, 2008

They found Lauren, Camille and Myeko gathered at the table they had left not thirty minutes ago, and took their own seats. "Find anyone you know?" Maureen asked.

"Not to talk to," Lauren said. "Every time I recognized somebody and came up to say hi, they got all awkward with me and could barely look me in the eye."

"Same here," said Myeko. "What's wrong with these people? Or did we stumble in on the wrong reunion by mistake?"

"No, this is Class of Eighty-Three all right," Camille said. "I know about two-thirds of the people in this room, especially the Fantasy Islanders, because you and I and Lauren and Michiko all went to school with them from kindergarten on. We're in the right place, but I think there's an _Invasion of the Body Snatchers_ thing going on."

"I went to school with them too," Maureen said, "and I got the same reactions. And here Leslie was getting remarks about being 'the famous Leslie Hamilton' and how she married a prince, and all anyone could see of Michiko was the crown."

"Have we changed that much?" Lauren wondered.

"Hey y'all, 'scuse me, but can I sit down a minute?" The woman who joined them was dressed as if for a job interview, in a skirt suit and high heels, and her makeup and frosted brown hair were flawless. They all knew who she was from the moment she broke into their powwow: it was Rae Ellen Moore, the girl from Mississippi who'd earned notoriety for herself by running away within a couple of months of graduation and who had been a drama classmate of Myeko's.

"Sure, go ahead," they agreed, making some room for Rae Ellen to wedge a chair in between Camille and Leslie. Myeko added, "Hi, Rae Ellen."

"Hey, Myeko. Nice seein' y'all again. Look…I don't mean to butt in, but I couldn't help overhearin' y'all's conversation, and I just had to put in my two cents. Hope y'all don't mind, but I think y'all oughta know." Rae Ellen shifted her chair, settled herself and rested her elbows on the table, interlacing her fingers in front of her in a sort of supersized fist. "It hasn't got anything to do with y'all changin' too much. I mean, sure, y'did - ever'body did, after all. We get older, we can't help it." Mentally Leslie repeated the words: _We cain't hep it._ A faint memory poked at her brain, something about her sister Kelly having made fun of a classmate's heavy southern accent once when the twins were seven and Leslie was nine. Rae Ellen's voice brought her back to the moment. "But maybe y'all changed too much in some ways and didn' change enough in others."

Leslie and her friends looked oddly at her and then at one another, and Camille asked suspiciously, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Look at y'all," Rae Ellen said, gesturing toward Michiko and Leslie. "Michiko, honey, you married a king - and a filthy-rich one too. I mean, he was rich even for a king! Y'all gotta know that's gon' change a body." She seemed not to see Michiko's shuttered look. "And look at you, Leslie." _Lookit yew_, echoed Kelly's voice in Leslie's head. "You started right off the bat bein' famous. You'uz Mr. Roarke's ward from your first day in school. An' then you git into Mr. Roarke's bidness, an' after that you go off an' marry a prince." _Pree-yunts,_ Kelly mocked through laughter. "How's anybody gon' compete with that?"

Finally too impatient with the harping on her husband's identity to check herself, Leslie demanded sarcastically, "So what do you expect me to do, divorce my husband so I'm less of a high-and-mighty snob?"

A couple of stifled snickers erupted from the other side of the table and she saw, in her peripheral, Lauren and Maureen trade a merry glance. Rae Ellen sighed. "No, that's not what I mean, y'all. It's just, some people're gon' be intimidated by that."

"Oh, and you think we had no idea?" Michiko inquired with light sarcasm of her own.

"C'mon, y'all, I'm not tryin'a be mean or anything like that. I just think y'all oughta know. It's not just y'all two, it's the rest o'y'all too." She indicated Camille, Lauren, Myeko and Maureen. "Y'all can't stop hangin' out with each other."

"Well, of course we hang out with each other," Myeko pointed out. "We've been friends for years, and we all live on the island."

"Yeah, I know that, but y'all aren't friends with anyone else, y'git it? Y'all been an exclusive clique since high school started, and nobody else could ever git in. Y'all had y'all's own table in here, y'all always did ever'thang together, y'all were always at the same parties and the same places in town an' ever'thang else." Rae Ellen's accent had thickened as she got into the spirit of her speech. "An' right in the middle of it all, there was the famous Leslie Hamilton. Y'all was like royalty, don't y'all know that?"

Leslie scowled at her. "You know something? This 'famous Leslie Hamilton' crap is really getting on my nerves. I refuse to go into the story of my life, but everybody except my friends here seemed to think I had the idea I was better than everyone else just because I lived with Mr. Roarke. If you think I was cliquish with them, that happens to be because they were the only ones who ever wanted to be friends with me. You may have conveniently forgotten, Rae Ellen, but in the first days of ninth grade here, I tried to make friends. I got rebuffed one way or another every time. You can take only so much of that before you give up and take refuge with those who've proven their friendship." She speared the southern woman with a hard look. "Maybe you weren't here at the time and didn't know that, but it's true. When that damn mumps epidemic went around in senior year and all the other girls here were out sick, not one soul would deign to keep me company at lunch." She tossed a fleeting glance toward the corner. "Only Cori Mukulani over there, and even she had ulterior motives. You think I was being standoffish? If you thought that needed correcting, why didn't you do something about it yourself, instead of criticizing me for it?"

Rae Ellen stared at her, her mouth hanging open for several seconds. "Oh, well…all I can say is, maybe you shoulda tried again. You know the sayin', _If at first y'don't succeed…"_

"Tell me something, Rae Ellen," Lauren broke in. "If you thought Leslie needed to break out of our closed little circle, why _didn't_ you try it yourself? Or did you think it was solely Leslie's responsibility to broaden her own horizons?"

"Or maybe you just thought I was so damn stuck-up that I'd snub you, so why even bother?" contributed Leslie acidly.

Rae Ellen unclasped her hands and flipped them palms-up in exasperation. "Don't y'all see what I'm tryin'a tell y'all? Y'all're gittin' these reactions now because nobody ever remembers y'all doin' anythang with anybody except each other! I know, Myeko, I know, I 'member you from my drama classes. Maybe you were the exception to the rule, 'cause your Halloween parties were open to anybody, and you made sure we all knew that. But what I mean is, y'all're _still_ a clique! Y'all need to open up and try to be friends!"

"You must have missed us a little while ago, making the rounds and trying to say hi to people," Myeko said, "except nobody seemed to want to talk to us. Even my old drama pals got uncomfortable around me. I've lived here on this island all my life. I'm nobody special. I'm a mother and I didn't marry anybody famous, and I don't have a big glittery entertainment career or anything else. I'm just an ordinary person. So what's with the collective snub in my case? You seem to have all the answers, you explain it."

"Hell, I don' know," said Rae Ellen. "But even now - lookit y'all, sittin' here in a huddle an' ignorin' ever'body else. An' half the people at the twenty-year reunion saw y'all all leavin' together right after roll call. That was just plain _rude_, y'all. We had a drawin' for a door prize, and if y'all hadn'ta left, one'a y'all woulda won it. Lauren's name was the first one we drew. But y'all cut 'n' run, so we drew somebody else and they won it. It was a nice prize too-an Alaskan cruise."

The girls looked at one another in disbelief, and for a moment they said nothing, a little abashed. Rae Ellen did have a point on that one, and they all knew it.

Then Camille inquired, "So the snubbing now is payback for that, huh?"

"Dangit, Camille, you're missin' the point. Y'all been actin' like an exclusive club for all these years, but y'all got the gall to wonder how come nobody wants to talk to y'all. So now y'know. There's no point breakin' in on a group that won't accept new members."

Leslie could feel exasperation bubbling just under the surface and wondered whether to give it voice or squelch it. Camille had no such inner debate, though. "Hey, you know what? I don't know who appointed you as our collective conscience - maybe you appointed yourself - but I'd like to know if you're through now." She propped her chin on one fist and speared Rae Ellen with her eyes. "For your information, we had no idea people thought like that. We would've been more than happy to welcome new members into our so-called club. Even you if you'd been so inclined. But didn't you just hear what Myeko said? We just tried to make friends, say hi to people. And this is the result. Now explain it."

All six girls waited, staring expectantly at Rae Ellen, who met each one's eyes in turn and then took on an outraged look. "Y'all mean that? I'm s'posed to explain it?"

"Hey, you think the solution was for us to make an effort. It sounds like you think all it took was us to reach out and it would've worked. It didn't, so let's hear the reason you think so," Myeko suggested.

"Too little, too late?" volunteered Michiko with a sarcasm utterly unlike her; Rae Ellen threw her a startled look.

Leslie could no longer hold back the question that had been waiting its turn, and said to Rae Ellen, "Tell me one thing. When I was eating lunch alone during that mumps epidemic, if I had gotten up and come to your table and asked to eat with you and whoever you sat with, would you have agreed, and invited me into your circle, or would you have said there was no room for me there?"

At that point Rae Ellen turned a mesmerizing shade of pure magenta, causing the other girls to look at one another again and Leslie to nod once or twice. "That's about what I thought. Don't talk to us about trying to assimilate, Rae Ellen, not when none of you is willing to accept our friendly overtures. We let you in thinking, hey, here's somebody we can talk to and catch up with, and what do we get but a lecture. If that's all you have to say to us, your time's up. You can go now."

"What she said," Myeko and Lauren said in chorus.

"Anyway, what's it to you?" Camille wanted to know. "You're the one who ran away shortly before graduation, aren't you? You made it pretty clear you hated it here. So what do you care whether we try to make friends or not?"

Rae Ellen reared back in her seat; somehow her face gained even more color, and for the first time, tears gleamed in her eyes. "Never mind, y'all," she muttered, and nearly overturned the chair in her haste to leave.

"Did you see that?" Camille asked, looking astonished.

Michiko frowned, and for the first time her old self glimmered through as she gazed worriedly after their fleeing classmate. "Something's not right here. I'll be right back." She jumped out of her chair and chased Rae Ellen, leaving the others glancing at each other.

"She did have one good point," Lauren said finally. "We _were_ pretty rude, walking out on the twenty-year reunion the way we did."

"I guess we were just so busy thinking about Myeko's reunion party, we never even thought about what it'd look like," Maureen agreed through a sigh. "But I'm starting to think it was a mistake for us to come to this one too. Who'd ever have thought we looked like a snobby clique to everyone else?"

"Maybe it wasn't necessarily _everyone_ else," Camille said. "Maybe that was just Rae Ellen's opinion."

Gears clicked in Leslie's mind. "If it was, then that might explain how she reacted just now before she ran off. Maybe she saw the chance to yell at us for it because she wanted to be part of our circle of friends back then, and we just never noticed."

"Well, cripes, couldn't she have just walked up to us and asked to eat with us?" said Myeko, rolling her eyes. "It works both ways. We may be at fault for some things, but it's not like she couldn't have come to us, too."

"Hey," Lauren said, eyeing Leslie, "you said Cori Mukulani ate with you when the rest of us had the mumps that time. Are you serious?"

Leslie groaned. "I was hoping you wouldn't ask about that." Her friends laughed, and she flashed a brief, sheepish grin. "It's a long, dumb story. I'll tell you about it after we leave this place. No point in it getting all over school." She smirked and they laughed.

Michiko came back then, with Rae Ellen by the arm, and signaled at the other girls with her free arm to follow them out the cafeteria door. Rae Ellen let Michiko tow her along without complaint, merely keeping her head low as if hoping no one would see her.

They tried a few doors before finding an unlocked one to an empty classroom, and closed themselves in after flipping on the lights. "Let's sit down," said Michiko. "I told Rae Ellen I think we all need to have a long talk."

The girls plopped into desks, and Lauren snorted, "Geez, this feels like I just jumped into a time machine. Is Mrs. Melchior gonna walk in the door and demand to know if I remembered to bring my geometry homework?" They all laughed, even Rae Ellen.

"Before we start," Camille said, "you seem to be coming out of your shell, Michiko. I mean, we saw your mother shove you in here, and it was pretty clear you wanted to stick your head back in the sand. So what's happened?"

Michiko glanced around at her friends, at Rae Ellen, and even at the door once before heaving a sigh that brought her upper torso off the back of the desk chair. "Mama-san scolded me the entire way down here. She tricked me out of the apartment by telling me she needed my help carrying groceries home, and then instead, she pushed me onto the shuttle bus and announced that I was going to the reunion no matter what. And she read me the riot act. I've never seen her so angry. She made sure I knew that I was trying to grieve myself into the grave alongside Errico, that my daughter needed me, that maybe my husband was dead but I wasn't, and after losing my father she wasn't about to lose one of her children too. She just let me have it. And then I began making the rounds with you, Leslie, and I saw that nobody could see me as anything but the queen of Arcolos. I was about to start feeling sorry for myself again, till Rae Ellen here dropped in on us and read us all a whole different riot act."

Rae Ellen blushed again. "I'm sorry, y'all."

"Well, maybe we deserved what you said about the last reunion," Lauren said with a small, sheepish shrug. "We did kind of cut and run, as you put it. Our husbands were there with us, and they were all a little uncomfortable, but not really much more than we were. We had a party planned at Myeko's house, and that just seemed way preferable to what we thought was turning into a cornfest."

"Nobody ever mentioned a door prize," Camille put in, peering at Rae Ellen.

"It was s'posed to be a s'prise," Rae Ellen explained. "I forgot who won, but there was a coupla well-off class members who donated it an' thought it might liven things up some. An' I guess it did. We all started minglin' and talkin', and it turned out right nice. It's just, y'all didn't stick around long enough to give it a chance."

"We thought the party at my house would be better," Myeko said. "I had a whole collection of 80s CDs and my husband was grilling, and Frida was visiting with her husband too, and even Michiko and Errico were there. We wanted to catch up and that was where we did it, but I guess we just had a crappy sense of timing."

"But it _was_ rude of us to walk out," Leslie said softly, thinking back on that night five years before, remembering their husbands' wisecracks and the way the girls themselves had made fun of the entire thing-and, she remembered guiltily, of Rae Ellen herself. "We're sorry, Rae Ellen. We really didn't think about how it would look, and the guys were just as eager to leave as we were."

"How did it make you feel, seeing us leave?" Michiko asked.

Rae Ellen reddened again, but she barely hesitated before answering, which told Leslie she must have wanted to say this ever since that night. "First thing'at crossed my mind was, I never saw anything so _rude_ in all my life. Jus' gittin' up and walkin' out and not even sayin' goodbye or offerin' an excuse. An' I couldn't stop thinkin' about it the rest of the night. It…it went from thinkin' how rude it was to whatever y'all musta left to do, an' I figured it was some exclusive, cliquey thing again, somethin' y'all were doing that was just for y'all and for nobody else. That damn club o'yers again. An' now I hear y'all had your own private little ol' party." She made a disgusted face, caught up in her memories and the anger they had brought out. "It figgers. Y'all jus' never let nobody else in."

When she fell silent, the girls sat for a moment without speaking, each one thinking back on that night and wondering who else had noticed them leave and what kind of impression that must have made. After a minute Maureen confessed, "It's really embarrassing. I'm sorry too, Rae Ellen. But honestly, we had no idea everybody else seemed to think we were just a snobby little club. We were no such thing, and even if we had been, we wouldn't have been the only ones. You always have your high-school groups, you know. The jocks, the popular girls, the brains, the badasses and the outcasts. There wasn't much mixing in those sects, and even within the groups, you had subgroups."

"The Great American High-School Caste System," said Leslie sardonically. "It starts in junior high, or middle school…whatever they call it nowadays. But that's when you sow the seeds, and by the time you hit high school, your identity is written in stone till graduation. And this isn't even America-it's only because we have so many Air Force students from Coral Island, and they've always outnumbered the locals."

"Didn't you ever see _The Breakfast Club_?" Myeko teased.

Rae Ellen grinned, looking a little sheepish. "Oh sure, I loved that movie. But y'all, 'member how it was one member of each one of those categories you mentioned, Maureen? An' somehow they all became friends. I thought about that for a long time after I saw that movie, an' it always made me think o'y'all and that clique y'all had."

"It wasn't a clique, Rae Ellen," Camille said, exasperated. "Maybe we looked like one, but we were a group of friends who lived near one another and had a lot in common, and it was natural for us to fall together. And it's still like that. We've been through a lot together, and we share a lot of memories, so of course we're proud of this friendship we have and we cherish it. But in spite of what you want to believe, that doesn't mean we don't like to make new friends. I'd like to know where you got that crazy idea."

"Probably from our walking out five years ago," Myeko offered.

"That kinda reinforced it," Rae Ellen reflected, "but it goes back a lot further'n that. I had my friends back then too, o'course. But I think what it really was, was that you had her in your group." She gestured at Leslie. "She was Mr. Roarke's ward an' all, an' I think a lot of people I knew looked at it like she was a queen with her ladies-in-waitin' buzzin' around her, doin' her biddin'."

Leslie shook her head, disbelief overwhelming her. "Holy paradise! Did I act like that? Did I present some kind of touch-me-not attitude that put people off?" She looked around at her friends in appeal. "You guys all knew I was shy and scared to death the day I started the eighth grade here. It's the same old stupid story. You get a shy person who has a hard time talking to new people, and immediately everybody assumes she's stuck-up. There's just no generosity, no benefit of the doubt, no room for…for…I don't know." She slapped the desktop, frustrated. "I fell in with Michiko and Myeko and Lauren here on that first day, because they were the only ones who seemed to realize it was just shyness and fear of the unknown, and not being stuck-up at all. But that stupid newspaper article apparently sealed my doom. I was Mr. Roarke's ward from the very first day, and of course that was too much for most of you. It was just easier to assume I was full of myself."

"Calm down, Leslie," Maureen urged. "We get it."

"But does Rae Ellen get it?" Leslie demanded, eyeing the name's owner.

Rae Ellen cleared her throat. "I guess maybe I was wrong about that. I didn't come here till almost the end of ninth grade. I 'member thinkin', wow, Fantasy Island. I git to go to high school here an' all. But there was kids makin' fun o'my accent, an' all I could do was try to make some friends real quick so I'd have somebody t'hang out with an' not spend my whole time here bein' lonely and bullied around. But I ended up missin' my hometown, an' that's why I ran away the end of senior year."

"Where's your hometown?" Michiko asked.

"Pascagoula, Miz'sippi," said Rae Ellen. "After I finished up here, I finally got back there, and I've lived there ever since…well, till that damn Hurricane Katrina wiped it out three years ago. Our house was a total loss. We been livin' up in a suburb o'Little Rock in Arkansas since Katrina. It's nice, but it sure ain't home." She smiled crookedly.

Camille smirked. "You know something stupid? When my daughter was born, my husband and I almost named her Katrina. We really would've got some attention then, since my name also belongs to a notorious southern hurricane. I got so much flak about it back in '69 when Hurricane Camille was all over the news, I never forgot it, even though I was only four when it happened. It's one of my first memories."

Everyone laughed, and Rae Ellen nodded. "There's a bridge over near Biloxi that you can cross an' you bounce up'n'down the whole way, an' that's because of the damage Hurricane Camille did to it. Might be one o'the last souvenirs o'that one." She grinned.

"Do you think you'll ever go back to Pascagoula?" Maureen asked.

"I hope so," Rae Ellen said, sighing. "Maybe someday. My husband's too sick'n'tired o'the hurricane risk, though. Hey, all y'all're married, right? Or were?" She tacked on the last two words with a hasty glance of apology at Michiko.

"Yup," the girls said, and each one filled her in on their families while Rae Ellen listened with interest, nodding frequently. It turned out Rae Ellen had a son and daughter of her own, both in high school. Their conversation continued on until the classroom door opened and several people stuck their heads in; the group looked around in surprise.

"What's the matter?" Michiko asked.

"Do you know how late it is?" one of the two women asked. "I mean, it's almost eight o'clock, and people are wondering where you are."

"Have you been in here all this time, Rae Ellen?" a man asked.

Rae Ellen grinned. "Yeah, I guess so. 'Member how we'uz talking 'bout the last reunion when we first got here? Well, the bad guys here aren't so bad after all."

"The bad guys?" chorused Maureen, Leslie, Camille and Lauren, gaping at her.

Even the newcomers in the doorway blushed, and Rae Ellen dropped her head. "I'm sorry, that jus' came outta me. We'uz talkin' about how y'all left the last reunion. Anyway, c'mon in, y'all. We're kinda gettin'a know each other, and they're cool."

The newcomers came in, and as if rehearsed, Leslie and her friends - especially Camille - flew out of their chairs. "Steve Matsumoto?" blurted Lauren, the only one who had the presence of mind to speak.

"Wow," uttered Leslie. "We haven't seen you since senior year."

Steve Matsumoto grinned in sheepish fashion; he was balding and had a very thick and bushy mustache, as if to make up for what had gone missing up top. He and Camille had dated during high school, till breaking up after attending separate colleges. "Hi, everybody. Camille, hi, nice to see you. You're looking good."

"You too," Camille said, clearing her throat. "Where do you live now?"

"California," he replied, and somehow that seemed to set off an entirely new conversation, while Steve and Camille caught up a bit and the other four introduced themselves. The chatter took on a new momentum, till the first woman who'd spoken checked her watch and reminded everyone that the main reunion was still waiting for them. "We're gonna miss it if we don't get out of here."

Leslie found herself in conversation with an islander named Tim Chiang and a former Air Force brat named Christine Wald, and caught a glimpse of Michiko strolling along with Rae Ellen, engaged in a lively discussion about something. Inwardly she smiled; it looked as though Michiko had finally emerged from Errico's grave, and she was glad.

On the way home, Michiko glanced around the car and asked, "Hey, where's Tabitha, anyway? I had the feeling someone was missing all this time, but I only just figured it out finally. Is she sick or something?"

"Or something," said Camille dryly.

"We'll have to find out what's going on with her too," said Leslie. "But for right now, we're glad you're finally back among the living. And hey, could you do Father and me a favor this weekend? We're going to need your help."

Michiko peered at her. "Oh? With what?"

"Some fantasies," said Leslie. "Tell you what - be at the main house Saturday morning at…hm, let's say ten o'clock…and we'll fill you in."

* * *

_So how does Michiko handle her little assignment? Stick around…and I promise to try not to take so long to continue the storyline this time!_


End file.
